


Don't You Dare Call It A Cat Fight

by DannisonDrables



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hybrid, BAMF Stiles, Crap aint no body gonna expect, M/M, Noncanonical Characters, Pack Dynamics, Stilinski Family Feels, Werecats, momma stilinski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannisonDrables/pseuds/DannisonDrables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one keeps a secret for long. When stiles loses his mother and is forced to run he finds the Hale pack and quickly makes them family after three years of being mentally MIA. He loves them but can he trust them with all that he is? Fate decides for him when he is out in place to save them... Again... As is the will of the Goddess. But this time a little more honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my baby. So feed back? Please? I'd love to know. 
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!So I edited thanks to the helpful comments. I double spaced and ran everything through Microsoft Word because it's like God but on a computer and fixed all the grammatical errors and spelling too. As far as the spacing, I changed the line spacing and I hope it helped. I think it did but I don't think it came across as much of a difference but just let me know. The next chapter should be up sometime later today. Hopefully.

It's no secret that you're hurting. Part One. 

Basil the Cat

                He twitched, the adrenaline junky that he was, and streaked towards his favorite tree, claws digging into the wood and taking him up to the highest limbs possible as he grinned a cat grin at the wolf below. Scott snarled and Basil contained his cat like laughter, stretching on the branch. Werewolves were easy play things. It's no wonder cats would rule the world. 

                Stiles had woken up to the sound of a howl ripping through the air, his small slender body arching, hackles rising and whiskers a skew. He felt them alive in the night around him. His friends, and stupidly he gravitated toward them, the mind of the creature wanting familiarity. And what other place was he more familiar too him than the Hale house was besides his own home, the place he buried in his mind, capturing the memories and killing them. The creature wanted both safety and adventure. What better than a house filled with wolves that would wear his pelt like a fashion statement, human and cat alike? 

                He slunk higher into the tree and, finding an old hole, curled up inside of it. They frolicked cutely, the wolf people. Stiles' cat was quite the opposite of who he was as a teenage boy. Prim and mannerly and thinking himself above mortal qualms. He tsked at the problems the human boy had; love and friends and DOGS. Ugh. They were insufferable beasts with no brains. At least his human counterpart had his genius, despite it being hurried under layers and layers of ADHD and well concealed panic (at least mostly well concealed.) And his human made well on being completely alone. He had learned the harsh life of being a changeling, being a child of Bast. To have the ability to change into whatever feline one wished was a marvelous gift, but the cat in you would crave freedom, to be away from chains and restrictions. It was wild, a fearsome wild. It was only because of the boys feline counterpart that was so civil and up tight that he was as he was, joking and so lacks with so many important things. And he knowingly rebelled against his cat by running with dogs. The cat sighed and stretched. He missed those first two years, of staying in his feline state, of hunting and prowling the night, sleeping in the day. 

                The wolves were alright, the cat supposed, perhaps a little to leash free. They accepted the boy though. They gave him family which appeased the cat. Despite how much he would deny it, the cat in him liked knowing his human had safety and family, like the affections of friends. And he liked the town, far from the stink of the city where even being an alley cat was dangerous. Seattle was home to his mother and father but Beacon Hills had the forest him and the cat both called home. He worked as a computer repairman. It was a good job to have, paid quite well and kept his hands busy. Basil supposed he could be blamed for the boys ADHD. Most of Bast's children were. And ADD as well. The panic was from his fifteenth year, when Basil was sure the search had been called off his consciousness changed back to the boy. He hadn't been upset. But waking up in the wilderness in a cave with mountain lions had been terrifying. 

                The cats attacking had really been where the panic stemmed from. Screaming for help and only until he had lost so much blood did the boy, Scott, find him, mauling the pack of cats to save the human. They were friends since then. The human helped the dog with a school work and enjoyed life while the cat slept, resting after the years of being awake. Stiles knew Basil was a part of himself, the warrior version of himself he never fully accepted, how could you accept what got your own mother killed? And Basil wasn't like those of his kind who formed hoards and ran in the remote places of the world. He was the lone cat, which was new. 

                He rolled on his branch and watched the wolves run by, smirking down at them. He thought of them as pets. Stupid slobbering pets but he supposed he was fond of them. The night rolled on. The cat slept.

                Stiles woke up and stretched, grinning huge in the morning light. He felt his inner cat curl up and pure with contentment and the sound echoed out of him. He jumped from the forty feet and landed neat in a crouch. The air was crisp and sharp and his inner cat twitched its whiskers, Stiles just twitched his nose and wrinkled it. 

                Running naked wasn't the best when it was cold but he flashed through the forest silently and found the hollow log where he kept his clothes and pulled them on quickly, rubbing them briskly against his skin to warm them with friction. He was renting a cottage a few miles from the Hale Place and he ran back there parkour style, flipping and tumble rolling when he could because fun. He plucked his phone from his from his pocket and smiled at the text from Lydia asking him out for coffee with Allison. He typed back a quick yes and leaped into the shower. 

                Basil liked the company of the girls, both very much the type who would fare well with the gift of Bast. He could see himself making a small hoard with them. Stiles smiled at the idea and revved the engine to the big jeep, half concentrating as he drove into town. Maybe he would ask Lydia first. She could keep a secret. And she would like keeping up with the wolves. Unlike the wolves Cats rarely were hunted. They were peaceful and admired humans. In Egypt his race was revered as heroes and Angels. They kept humans safe, befriended them, never slaughtered them. Purists would get after them once in a while, the type that said anything besides human was against god. 

                Stiles supposed when it came to him it was. He didn't believe in god. Not really. He loved his Goddess, thought of her as his mother. There was a magic that came with being what he was, especially when being born into it rather than being chosen and changed. Sometimes it was a gift, foresight, Divination, Empathy, always something mental. He was an empath. He felt the emotions of those around him. His mother had been clairvoyant, the ability of foresight, and had been killed by a group of extremists in Seattle who called her a witch and hung her. When she died his grief triggered Basil to wake up. He shifted on his fourteenth birthday and ran away at fifteen. He knew they were hunting for him so he ran the night of. He'd been a cat for three years. Not always the same. Sometimes he urged Basil to play domestic as a tabby or a Siamese. Basil favored the Siamese. Even Stiles gritted his teeth over wearing a bell though so he made his way to South America and lived as a panther. He liked it. He just didn't like hunting down the wild Llama or other animals. Basil wasn't a fan of it either. He was a prudish cat. He ran back to the pacific North West as a cheetah and got there in a week. A hundred miles each day give or take. That was one of Stiles' favorite cats to be. He loved the speed. Being a Bengal was nice too, and a savanna cat. Those were his easiest. He shifted to those in his sleep, having woken up more times than he cared to think about, lost in his own clothes, face distressed and huffy as he battled out of the fabric. 

                He parked in the drive way of the Starbucks and jumped out, jogging into the Cafe. He was probably a little late. He wouldn't deny that as Basil he liked to sleep in. He was a lazy cat. Lydia and Allison waved him to a table in the back where they had already bought him a can or Arizona ice tea, watermelon flavored because duh, it was tart and made his taste buds quiver with glee, and letting him drink coffee was both idiotic and dangerous. They both remembered Stiles diving into the street to play dodge car. It had taken Derek nearly tackling him down to get him out of the middle of the road, and that was after the logging trucks drove through.  

                "You're looking chipper today." Lydia smirked because she still had yet to gather that a simple smile did her face good. 

                "I had a good night." He smiled brightly. 

                "Anyone we know?" The red head deadpanned making the Bast choke on his drink. 

                "W-what?!" He squealed very manly at the same time Allison gave a reproachful "Lydia!"

                "I was just asking." Her mood turned sulking and Stiles sighed. 

                "I just slept well. Good and alone. Yep. A-Lone. Like always. Me myself and I. Fun fun fun."

                "Shut up, Stiles." 

                He stuck his tongue out and wrinkled his nose cutely at both girls who giggled at his adorableness when he felt it and went stock still. The wave of white hot rage and the scent of cinnamon and spices that identified werewolves and  the scent of smog and the metallic scent of the city, a werewolf who smelled like smoky keys. Stiles had to stifle the urge to laugh. Smokey keys. Then he remembered this was actually bad, that there was a mindless fucking man eater who was more than a little bit on the rag and on Hale turf. The werewolves he knew smelt like the outdoors, pine and leafs and the wilderness. He turned slowly and looked around the small cafe; the few people who were inside were busy, reading books, obnoxiously attention whoring while they typed on sleek looking laptops, and a few loners texting in dark corners. 

                He wouldn't have saw him if he hadn't had the extra heightened senses, the empathy. 

                "Here, Kitty Kitty." The rough voice purred. It was hiding. Stiles could hear the man but couldn't see him but he was close. "Ah. The kitty can't find me can he? Tell me. How did you manage to hide in that pack of dogs? All them sniffing about... Oh. That's RIIIIGHT. Pretty kitty can hide his scent can't he. That's what keeps them from ripping your skin off your breakable plush BONES?!? Oh... Dear me... I've lost my temper. Forgive me. I just have a small anger issue. I have since it happened, you know, since your pack of dogs tore my life apart, since they made my existence a living hell. So I'm going to show them what hell is." His voice grew even more menacing and Stiles felt the cold rush of fear make his eyes change. He closed them. "I'm going to tear their whole world apart. I'm going to ruin everything they have. I'm going to leave them broken and shattered. I'm going to bathe this town in blood and pain and death and watch them take the fall and watch as they are destroyed as they destroyed me. Now run and tell, Pussy Cat. Run and TELL!!!"

                The Alpha, as Stiles knew it was by the sheer menace of his voice, made the mistake of saying the last work too loud. Stiles' head whipped to face the front counter where Danny stood confused, as if he was in a trance. That scared Stiles in itself. An Alpha didn't have that power; not like that they could force you to submit if you were weak, but not hold you captive like that. The man who turned to look at Stiles was tall and broad with muscle to spare and long shaggy sandy blonde hair and a fuck load closer than Stiles had thought before. Weaker eyes wouldn't have been able to see past the tint of the black sunglasses but Stiles' cat eyes saw into them easily. The burgundy irises that were just other and the small black pupils that burned him like lasers. 

                Stiles paled at the feral predatory smile that promised violence and carnage and the cat in him (Now in the form of a Bengal Tiger) paced and twitched its tale, growling viciously. Stiles had to choke back the sound. The man turned smoothly and with barely any sound, not a heartbeat or pulse and just faintly the sound of his feet hitting the floor, he left. 

                "Stiles?" Allison gripped his arm gently, steadying him. He didn't realize he had stood and made his way to the middle of the room until Lydia and she were standing beside him, holding on to him, their bodies emitting anxiety and panic. He blocked them, knowing what panic did to him. How it made him like a puppet with a caved in chest. His inner cats’ tail flicked with annoyance. 

                "Stiles did you know him or something? Is he a friend of yours?" Allison shook him gently and brought him back from the shift he felt growing. 

                "Derek. We have to find Derek." 

 

-

 

                Allison drove dangerously, wheeling through the forest roads that twisted and turned all the way up to the Hale property. Stiles had been holding back Basil, keeping that part of him in check. Yes, The Bast were peaceful to the humans they loved, like Lydia and Allison. But they were lethal and skilled fighters. They could rip and tear even better than werewolves, Weres in their own right, though not forced into the change by the moon or sun, but by the humans who they imprinted with. That is why they had skills; they were attuned to their humans, like the girls were for him. When they were in peril their Bast would run to find them, driven to points of madness that heightened their strength and speed so they could find them. They didn't have to fully shift, there was a hybrid form where the claws and cat eyes would come, along with a tail and the sharp teeth and him and his cat would merge slightly when in battle to fight better. He simply didn't have it easy though, he was bound to the whole pack, they all of them were sensitive spots to him, easily being read despite the distance. He had, many times, trotted into the Hale house to curl up with a sleeping Derek when he would have nightmares and whimper and snarl. He would purr and soothe the sour wolf back to sleep. Stiles knew Basil hated to admit his care for the pack, but he knew that the cat loved them all in his own ass hole way. 

                Allison slammed to a stop and Stiles sprung out, running up into the newly rebuilt manor, calling for the wolves he knew would still be asleep as they always were the night after the full moon. 

                "Derek! Derek! Get your furry ass down here." 

                "You're one to talk." Jackson said just as Derek appeared at the top of the stairs with an annoyed "What is it, Stiles? What, Jackson?" 

                "What?" Stiles parroted, whipping his head to stare at Jackson because he seriously didn't have time for this and Basil really wanted to go all Lion King on his ass and introduce him to what the fuck Pride really was. 

                In answer Jackson held up a composition notebook for everyone to see and opened it to the page his finger was keeping place at. 

                "'I wish I could just tell the pack what I am. It's been the worst three years of lying and Basil makes me feel guilty for keeping it a secret, even if it is only because he is proud. But I know that this could ruin what they've become to me, my charges, and my family. I know the wolves could keep themselves safe, but I know I help, I do the research. I find their answers. And if they turn me away it would be harder to protect Allison and Lydia who are the charges I really have to look out for. I don't know what the Argents would say if they knew about me. Would the pack try to kill me? And would I be able to live once I killed them? I wouldn't be able to stop myself. It would be mothers will to keep myself safe. And I know I play human, but it would be more than easy. That makes me sick. I love being who I am. I wish they would love me too, the real me. I wish Derek would. No one else knows his pain... How it still hurts him. How he still cries.'"

                "Jackson." Stiles hissed reproachfully. Not for himself but because he was disrespecting the Alpha. Telling secrets he had no business telling. 

                "'Would he still cry? Still feel so alone of he knew how I felt. How much I loved him. But his kind... they have been the only enemy to my people. But I feel the pack is different. Maybe they are more evolved. The werewolves in Romania had been creatures of rage and anger. They were not civilized and self-controlled as they are now. The species has grown in the four hundred years I have watched. Has Derek changed? The Hales were always good people when I had known them. Vivian was such a sweet girl. Derek is just like her when she was his age. It hurts my heart to know she's gone. What would Derek think to know the nights I laid with him I wept too, just in a different body? Would Vivian forgive me for loving her son, would Derek forgive me for lying about my whole life? I don't deserve to have them in my life. I wish they knew... I wish they wouldn't hate me for being what I am. I just... Wish...'"

                The room was silent for minutes, and the sound of the tears hitting the floor was thunderous is Stiles' now pointed ears. He was in his hybrid state, his raw emotion changing him, his tail hung behind him, long and dark brown like his hair, hanging still, just the end barely twitching. His eyes were closed but not from crying. He had t wanted them to see the cat eyes, the vertical slits the cut through the now light purple irises that marked him a lone cat, the color of his human eyes, light brown glowing around the edges. Everyone had heard, he knew, because they had been awoken by their alpha's distress and had heard Jackson finish the end of the journal entry. He didn't even feel shame. He just felt sad and guilty, and maybe shameful, but not for loving Derek. That was a weight off his chest, no, he felt shameful for lying to the people he loved. But now they knew, and that was better even if they hated him. 

                Derek made a choked sound and it pushed stiles over the edge, he shrunk in on himself and turned into the familiar gray Bengal cat with black spots that were like a leopards. His ears dipped and his eyes were large with fear. Not of death but of rejection. And then Jackson opened his stupid mouth and really, really pissed Basil and Stiles both off with one word. 

                "Pathetic runt." He spat and Basil glared daggers at him, shifting again to his hybrid form, the most deadly one. In some ways he was even more deadly than the Kanima. His claws reacted the same way, only they didn't shut down the body of just anyone. They forced the body of supernatural creatures to revert back to a human form and sedated the extra sensory skills; the healing, the strength, the speed. Like a werewolf had venom in the bite, Bast had the venom in their claws and it reversed the shift. In humans who were threatening them it was just put to sleep. The Bast stronger and faster than werewolves, they had extra strong leg muscles and fast reflexes, jaws that could snap bone and claws that cut through steel. Stiles shifted into a crouch and yowled. 

                "Bring it on, Pussy Boy." Jackson growled, shifting. 

 

-

 

                Jackson was angrier, more than he had ever been. He had wanted power and he had gotten it but when he read that fuck face Stiles had more than him, than the whole pack, and had been hiding it and lying. It pissed him off and yep he knew what he did was a dick move. But he wanted to push buttons, he was hurt and felt betrayed because no, he had never really liked Stiles, but Stiles took care of them and helped them. He was a friend, but now.... now he just wanted the chance to best the cat. He was a strong beta, a gifted wolf and a good fighter, but he was arrogant sometimes. Foolishly arrogant, and it would cost him this time.

                He watched as Stiles shifted on him, so much smoother than a werewolf shifted, his features moved like silk as the transformed and his face didn't change all that much besides the teeth and eyes and the long black whiskers that laid against his face and a slight reformation of the nose, much less dramatic than a werewolf. The cat moved into a crouch and Jackson felt his wolf emerge at the challenge. He didn't think they were mortal enemies anymore, his wolf was just extra pissy about the cat, and there was no call of eternal vengeance to slaughter Stiles, like he supposed the werewolves that had existed so long ago had. Nope this was strictly teenage boy testosterone filled stupidity.

                He thought maybe taking the boy from above would be smarter, strategic higher ground. It showed thoughtfulness was that he was thinking like his opponent. But Stiles couldn't be bested. Jackson launched and flew the short distance and even faster Stiles was rolling backwards, up on his shoulder blades and his bare heels digging into Jackson's ribs. The wolf hit the ceiling and fell, Stiles having already rolled and was standing, waiting for him, grabbing the back of his head to stop the fall. Jackson thought Stiles was showing mercy but he was wrong. The cat slammed his face into the hard wood floor. He was on the wolfs back in a second, pulling his head back by the hair and pressing the tips of his claws smoothly into the wolfs neck. Jackson gave a startled yelp before he changed back and Stiles rolled away, completely human again. Fuck. 

 

-

 

                Derek watched them duel, in awe at the foreign creature Stiles turned into. He remembered the cat, if only briefly, his quiet visitor in the night, and warmth spread through him. Stiles was there wiping his tears with his fur, cuddling the Alpha until he could get back to sleep. Stiles had known his mother? Stiles had known his family? Stiles missed them too? Stiles loved them. Stiles loved him... Stiles... Stiles was kicking Jackson's ass! His wolf growled with admiration. The cat was a skilled fighter and Derek felt his power growing, having the cat as a member of his pack. The wolf was pacing as he watched the cat take down the weaker wolf, claws dipping into the flesh of his neck just barely. And then... They were all gasping as Jackson was forced back from the shift, 

                This Stiles was new. Was dangerous. Was... Sexy. 


	2. There Is Power In These Old Bones Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. Strangers are exposed. Prides grow and from the dark lost people emerge, but only to be kept hidden again for what lies a head. Will they survive? Can they? Does this not sound like a cheesy movie trailer? I know... BAMFs in this chapter. Like for real. We see where HE gets it from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So don't kill me. For real. Like... If I die the people will know and come looking and be pissed that this story hasn't been finished. So your feels, put them in the comments. And I'm not sorry. At all.. For any of it. None. You love me. :3

There is pain in these old bones yet. 

 

                The teeth that grind,

                The growls unkind,

                His own personal thunder. 

                The beast within,

                Tonic and Gin,

                Causes such a blunder. 

                These wheels on track,

                The claws retract,

                Hope pulled from under,

                The corpse, his bride,

                The cat, his pride,

                The heart no longer sunder. 

-

 

                She sang hazardously to the sounds of Gin Wigmore's 'Black Sheep' cause fuck it was her song. She even sounded good with the entire nasal sound that was involved. 

                "Got a pistol for a mouth my old momma gave me that." She whined to match the gravely tone, tapping the beat on the steering wheel of her F150, bobbing her head and scanning the road before checking the time. She was on schedule. 

                "If I have to fall then it won't be in your line. I'm a baaaaaaad woman ya see." The slam against the front of her truck told her to ease on the breaks. She turned up the radio before leaping down from the truck, tying her hair up and pulling on her rubber gloves she yanked on the older gentleman's body from beneath the car, groaning at the nauseatingly putrid scent of his blood. And then there was the crunch of his bones, oh god she was gonna hurl. She gagged a little dramatically and stuck her tongue out. 

                "Once you go black you never go back." She shimmied her hips and drug the carcass to the side of the forest, eyeing the woods intently before turning on her heels, focusing more on the sounds of the music and not the sound of flesh tearing under the cougar’s teeth and claws. She did a little runway walk for the hell of it. Soccer mom? Fuck that. She was Stella. 

                "Everyone's doing it so why the hail shouldn't I?" She even took a minute to dance, throwing her hips around and singing. She should have totally been in coyote ugly. Like for real. 

                After more ass shaking than she intended she walked around the other side of the car and deftly hefted up the teenage boy and, lifting the back of his shirt, raked her claws down his back, catching him as he sagged. 

                "You're a baaaaaad woman Stella. A bad bad woman." She strutted around and leaped up into car, flooring it quickly, cutting the headlights and barreling out of town. 

 

  
  
             She tried to swallow the half chewed French fries before his eyes fluttered open but she knew she would only end up nearly dying so she grinned around her straw, mouth full, cheeks flushed scarlet red. 

                "Hey there, Drowsy, was the weed that good?" She asked, dropping the bag with three fish sandwiches in it on his lap. God bless McDonalds. 

                "There was weed, I- I don't remember weed..."

                "Yeah cause you aren't that lucky." She dead panned and blasted the radio. "I'm your go go dancer. Midnight answer, juke box sweet heart. Queen of the night. Vegas baby. If you pay me. Anything you like. Anything you like." God she was so going to hell. And quick by the lust filled haze clouding the boys’ eyes. The cougar just seemed ironic now. 

                "So..." He straightened up trying to look taller than her. She was six feet. It was a fail. "You ran over my dad?" His voice seemed to shake a bit. 

                "That was YOUR dad? I thought it was a nargle. I hate those things. They're everywhere really. Piss me off. And Luna TRIED to warn Harry but no, no he wouldn’t listen. And I’m not totally soled on the fact that Voldemort didn’t just pop back up in that cauldron in Goblet of fire like a dumpling, cause really, his ass was cooked. Like with blood and a hand and stuff. Like what do you call that? Hand Stew? Blood of my Nemeses Chowder? I’m An Evil Ass Hole Soup? Would croutons even help? No. No they wouldn’t. Because then it would not only be gross, it’d be gross AND crunch so you wouldn’t know what was crunching. Old Moldys’ bones or the croutons… that taste would tell you, but it all would be gross so it wouldn’t matter. Old Moldy…Just ew." She kept her face so serious it almost killed her not to smirk. He looked so lost. A giggle slipped out and her smirk already across her face. 

                "Is it a crime? To want to shine, in my white to go boots tonight. With their-" She started to sing again to fill the awkward silence that filled the car... awkwardly. God this was going to take some getting used to.

                "Silver design. I know it makes you wild. I know it makes you-" Isaac cut in and sang in a smooth tenor making Stella smile; the boy had some lungs and knew all about Lana. Alright!

                "WILD!" She finished up with a high pitched meow and grinned fully, with warmth. "Welcome to the order of people who know a good musical artist when they hear one." 

                "I heard you singing Gin Wigmore last night. I knew I was around kin." He joked tiredly some time later, stretching in the seat, not noticing the claws shooting momentarily from his fingertips.

                "We always have to nap the first few hours into it. The cat gets pissy if you don't have a full night’s sleep." She offered up easily without even loosing at him. 

                "I don't understand?” he asked.

                "I know. But I'm going to show you... later. Sleep." She ordered and he did. Snoring like a mother fucking chainsaw. Just like… hngh! She bit the thought off and floored it. They needed to be in California by morning, and she knew he was following her by now anyway; it was just a matter of time, Girl, Just a matter of time.

 

-

 

                Isaac woke up to the car vibrating with the bass, Work by The 123's was blaring through this woman's sick stereo system. He leaned up stiffly and looked around and SHIT! He watched out the front window as she held her own against seven grown men. And was... Was this bitch for real?! She was fighting to the music and looked like she was only half paying attention. He felt sick worry spring up from somewhere inside of him and felt the snick of claws shooting out from his fingertips. He stared at his hands in panic, wiggling them and trying to make them vanish. He licked his lips, trying to fight the nerves and winces as his tongue scraped across sharp fang like teeth. He looked in the mirror and saw large cat teeth, pointed and deadly, in his mouth. His tongue looked weird, bumpy and rough and his eyes were like a cat, the pupils in slits around baby blue irises that glowed a mint green around the edges.

                Her hips swung with every punch she let out and her kicks had a little too much flourish to them. Her pelvis moved in a circle as she leaned back, bending more and grabbing at the wrist above her, using it as leverage to swing her leg up and catch what she thought was a man in the balls. 

                "Shit shit. Not a guy. Not a guy." He heard her hiss even through the blaring music and watched her swing her other leg up, kicking the woman’s throat in, right at the jugular, and flipped them, the woman’s head slamming into the ground with a sick crunch, her body going entirely limp. He had been kidnapped by Black Widow. Son of a bitch.

                She head nodded into smashing her forehead into another females’ before using her as a bat, taking down two more men. Before she could have known, facing the other way so she couldn't have seen, she dropped flat onto her stomach as she quite literally dodged the bullet, the other man taking it right in the throat. He fell forward and she flipped onto her back, knees bent, she kicked him off like a spring board and sent him sailing, crashing into the gunman. 

                He hadn't realized he was running until she was pouncing on him, pinning him face down. Slowly and almost motherly she thrummed a purr loudly in his ear. His eyes rolled back and he went into a vision. He saw himself and a thousand others, first human then feline, all different types, shifting and changing always. 

                "It's a gift, Isaac." Her voice floated in and he felt himself connect with her. She embodied warmth and safety and security. He felt her wild will and saw the pacing tiger inside of her eyeing him like he was both cute and tasty all at once. "You'll be faster, stronger, smarter. You'll be able to defend yourself. You get a gift, like I can see the future. You'll never have to be afraid of getting hurt again. I promise. I’ll help you through everything and would you PLEASE stop getting a boner because I'm on top of you. Jesus." She sprang onto her feet lithely and whirled, knowing he would follow. 

                She headed towards the black hummer and climbed in happily, the F150 already running low on gas. 

                "Is it just me or does it seem like you are on some sort of mission?"

                "Kiddo your powers of conception are blowing me away. Really. I'm stunned."

                "Sarcastic Bi-." He grumbled. His face met the dashboard hard in one swift motion. He looked hurt. 

                "Listen to me. You are a part of my Pride. I am your Matriarch. Do you understand? Just like packs have an Alpha. I'm your Alpha. You respect me; I won't knock your teeth in." She explained in a cool voice and smiled gently letting her eyes cool.

                "I’m sorry." He said, contrite. She nodded and rubbed his forehead, soaking in the pain and purring. He purred back. She had been right, he felt stronger, it was slowly moving over him, changing him, and he felt it humming in him, or better yet, purring in him like lounging feline, waiting to pounce, a smooth sleek long gray lynx with luminous baby blue eyes. That was the cat that matched him, his mind work, and his body type. He knew that would be the cat that was easiest to turn into for him.  
                “Nice… Those are rare.” She commented off handedly and he felt her mind merge with his, the slim but powerful body of a Bengal tiger curling protectively around his leopard. There was another there, in the far corner that he couldn’t reach, a cougar with light sandy fur and dark brown eyes littered with flecks of purple.

"So... Who is he…?" Isaac asked gently.  
"Someone we need to save.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Stella. Stella Stilinski.”

-

                John smirked at the large truck, strumming his claws against the black paint job, smirking wider as he took in the carnage, his mind spiraling back down to see. She kicked ass. She always had, even his, when they had first met. Something deep inside of him was knitting together, a small piece of his soul coming home. Stella had been at the house, had took her old truck and left him a simple short note. 

                'Liquor John? Really? Dis-a-pointed. We will talk about that booze I mean blue situation when I get home. I'm going south. I have to find Stiles. I love you, John. See you there.'

                She was on a lead for sure. He could do by the way she had just left shit hanging. He knew that she knew that he'd be here to clean it, so he did, not wanting to be a bad batman and give cat woman room to talk. He picked up the phone and dialed the old number he hadn't dialed in years. 

                "Deaton, its John. I need a favor."

 

                John took off on all fours right after that, hot on Stella's trail, chasing her like he did when they were young. It was just like the old days. The scent was south like she said, and he crossed the state line of California a little after nightfall. She headed away from the coast to the west. If he focused hard enough he could sense her cat pacing playfully. He was the lion; she was the tiger and Stiles... Stiles had always been the light cougar, graceful and lithe and poised. They knew by the color and length of his tail she he was born. His fast erratic and klutzy movements that would get him bumped and bruised. John ran as a cheetah, following after his wife and whatever plan she had. Stiles was alive and out there somewhere. Stella knew it, so did John, all this time, he had just been too lost without them, deep in the bottom of a bottle.  No more sinking though, it was time to swim.  
  
-  
  
                Stella lay on the long limb of the tree and closed her eyes, watching. The Alpha was turning people left and right, she watched as if through his eyes, biting five drunken teenagers. There was something wrong with him though, something inside of him. A deep angry hunger, tainted with impatience. The way his eyes pulsed brighter when he bit them, like he was sating himself, appeasing a deep instinct to fee- Stella lurched out of the vision, hand cupping her throat.  
                She shifted and took off into the forest, barreling to find her small Pride. It’d been a week since she had changed Isaac and they were resting up, sleeping for most of the day and hunting in the night, training and fighting. Isaac was a skilled fighter; he had natural warrior instinct that he bonded with greatly, his potential giving her strength and power. Sarah Morrel, the warm brown skinned woman was just the same, they took to the change with grace. Morrel, as she liked to be called, was a beautiful leopard with a rare gift for auras.  
  
             Stella broke through the thick underbrush, grinning inwardly as her Pride sparred skillfully, flashing movements and quick strikes. These two were lethal, her cat loved it. She was shifting back when the vision hit her; the Beta was running, burgundy eyes flashing hungry as she tore into the clearing, tackling down Isaac and digging her teeth into his neck. He was still too young, too into his prime to let the instinct take over so he could end the beast. In the vision he fell to the ground, the ghostly form of his cat, a beautiful gray lynx with black tipped ears, slipped from his and with a yowl, trotted into the forest to cross over.  
                “Isaac Move! Morrel, Here!” She ordered, leaping the distance and getting there just as the female beta made her leap, black hair long and tangled with leafs and twigs. Stella took her down and slammed the heel of her palm into the beta’s throat, snapping the bone. The girl sagged and Stella ripped the head from her shoulders, huffing at the tainted scent crawling with nothing but malice and anger. “Burn it, John.” She breathed, knowing he would see this and hear her. Morrel circled defensively around Isaac, defending the youngest member of their Pride. It was instinct to protect the young, Stella was proud.  
                “Let’s move before-“She didn’t finish, they were already there, running towards them.  
  
-  
  
                John watched from up in the tree, smirking. Stella charged the young Alpha male, her pride close to her back. So was swift and skilled, pinning him down and cutting into him quickly, standing on her hands against his chest and knocking down the two Betas, flipping and throwing the Alpha at the female with the blonde wavy hair. She swung her hips around and around to the unheard music, enticing the large black beta who threw her cubs off of him and charged her. She swung around him in a twirl and grabbed his collar, clothes lining him with his own shirt, slamming him to the ground and sticking him with her claws in the back of his neck.  
                “Morrel, Get the alpha. Hostage.” She instructed them easily. “Isaac, take out the females, just don’t kill them, we don’t have the ti- FUCK!” She was thrown by the dark skinned beta, his human strength quite impressive, but not moving her much distance before she skidded across the ground, claws digging into the earth. Stella was pissed. She didn’t have time for this, John knew. He had seen who was coming, could hear him barreling towards the clearing at great speeds, his yowl loud and ferocious.  
                “Morrel! Get Isaac!” But with a leap it was too late, the cougar jumped the impossible distance and slammed into the young Bast, tumbling as the other Bast phased back, short buzzed dark brown hair, doe brown eyes bleeding light purple and tail twitching with annoyance. Stiles had arrived. Stella whirled and ran smack into the chest of the Alpha who had risen when the other Bast had arrived. John smothered a growl, the urge to protect his mate nearly too strong to ignore.  
                “You aren’t going anywhere.” The alpha growled, nostrils flaring, eyes bleeding red. Stella jumped and went to dig her heels into his chest when he side stepped, catching her ankles and using her momentum to throw her, taking out the female Bast. Isaac and Stiles circled, Isaac shrinking back from the obviously stronger and more skilled cat.  
                “Allison and Lydia, get out of here.” Stiles ordered, voice purring with murder, teeth sharpened to the point of fangs. The wolves reacted oddly to his son, John noted. The beta’s backed away while the Alpha watched him with awe. So much awe that he didn’t see Stella shift and tackle down Stiles as a tiger. Morrel appeared, grabbing Isaac who was curled up defensively as a Lynx, and throwing him far, forcing him out of the shock. He changed back and took off, Morrel right behind him. Stella didn’t change back until right at the edge of the forest, her orange and black striped fur giving way to her human form, completely naked, long brown hair streaking out behind her.  
                 
                John had crept further back onto his branch, slinking into the shadows and sighed. It was too close of a call, too uncontrolled. If his son… If Stiles had seen his mother he wouldn’t be ready for what was coming towards him. A few more pieces of fate had to drop into place before they could be together again.  
  
-  
  
                Sandra climbed up the up the lattice work on the side of the old brick house in the middle of the German forest outside of Berlin. The windows glowed dimly with soft warm light and with a nudge and a squint of her eyes, the window popped open, and the hinge creaking. The man who sat at the desk was immersed in book, frantically reading over the pages. He never noticed her enter until she was lying on her back, twirling a lock of her long silver hair, matching tail skimming lightly over his knuckles. She smirked as he jumped and growled.  
                “Bowser.” She greeted easily, purring softly at the lusty look he got into his eyes. She tutted. “Not tonight my love. You never know what pretty cat eyes could be watching. I’m here on business.”  
                “What business do you have with me but to give me all that I ask for?” He growled again, this time deeper, his hands finding her hips and whipping her around and up into a sitting position, standing between her thighs and pressing close to her. He trailed his lips down her throat slowly, grinning wickedly as she trembled.  
                “We have to leave, Bowser.” She dropped the ball, holding him back with two hands on his chest, staring up at him with worry filled eyes, biting her lip. “They were too close today. We have to keep them apart until he lights the torch. Until he starts the war. Then they can be together. We have to guard them, for the sake of peace, for the sake of the secret war to end. They all have to live. They are hunting us again and it’s making an impact. Prides are scattered and torn; vendetta’s making our responsibilities to human lacks. There is a balance to be kept. We must keep it.” She finished with a snarl and shoved him back, jumping up from the desk.  
                “Has he made a pride yet?” The man calmly asked, eyeing the woman with desire and love.  
                “Soon.” She answered, smiling softly before heading to the window.  
                “Be prepared to leave then. No sooner. When should we be ready?”  
                “In a few hours.” She made the leap and landed outside of the house in a rolling stand, eyeing the man who watched her fondly from the window before streaking out into the night, calling the swiftness of the cheetah without changing, powering away into the night. She had already packed.  
  
-  
  
                Carmen smiled, stepping away from the letter that now burned slowly, turning to face the wolf white wolf that walked into the room, heavy paws padding against the floor.  
                “So you’ve decided to go against me?” The man’s voice was like gravel, looming over her in his human form, muscular body nude and glowing pale in the candle light.  
                “It isn’t your place to go against the will of the Goddess.” Carmen hissed, shifting and flicking her tail agitatedly.  
                “I know of the Goddess. This is not her will, Carmen. This is yours. And you will be struck down for going over her head.”  
                “I will be as strong as the Goddess when I wipe out your whole species and take in the power of every Alpha. “  
                “And the boy will stop you.” The man said simply, voice finite.  
                “HE IS BUT A KITTEN TRAPPED IN YARN! HE WILL DIE UNDER THE HAND OF THE ALPHA! I HAVE BROUGHT EVERY PUZZLE PIECE TOGETHER, EVERY SINGLE ONE! I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE, LYCOS AND IT IS LITTERED WITH ME AS RULER AND THE GODDESS BOWING TO ME! I WILL NOT BE MADE TO KNEEL AGAIN! TO HER OR ANYONE!” The candles blew out with unseen energy whipping from the first child of Bast but the wolf could see easily in the dark and smiled.  
                “You will not just kneel, Cleo. You will grovel before her as she sets her plan into action. I have seen the future too, and it does not have you in it. There are movements even you have not seen. Movements she has hidden from you. The boy is safer than you know, and stronger than you have assumed.”  
                “I could kill you now.”  
                “And you would incur the wrath of your Goddess, you are too weak to move against anyone now… Go about slaughtering my children. Their sacrifice is the price I must pay to see you die. Prancing about like some dilapidated Scar.” He scoffed at her.  
                “Did… Did you just make a Disney joke?” Her voice held disdain and he grinned and shrugged.  
                “Be prepared, Cleo. You and I have reigned too long. It’s time we moved on. Come with me now and let us settle this. Let us pass the reins on to those who have been destined to take them. Please… No more war.” Lycos nearly begged.  
                “You try to play on my sympathies, Dog… You realize… I. Have. None.” She growled and crouched, eyes flashing red. The color of an Alpha wolf. He stiffened at the front and nodded, backing away.  
                “Then war, war that will only mean the end of you and me, but no one else.”  
                The wolf turned and vanished, the sounds of snarls all that he left behind. She trembled in fear and eyes the statue.  
                “It is time I stopped living in your shadow, is it not, mother?” Cleo spat and stalked off to slaughter another Alpha pack, urging her creature to work faster and harder, to kill Stiles Stilinski.


	3. Panthera Uncia - A Real Live Cullen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just feels. That's all I can think to say about this. New Bast, Epic feels and emotions and some kick assness. Yep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no Twilightness, the title is a joke. You'll get why. :3 I can't wait to see what you all think. And also, I'm in witness protection, kill me and the people will know and to Juleon, I added a very small part in there just for you. You'll know it when you read it. Not even sorry. At. All. <3  
> And also, the end of this chapter is made to lead into chapter four so go a head and think I've flopped if you want to but don't say I didn't warn you when you read chapter four and suddenly the end of chapter three makes soooo much sense. FEED BACK IS DESIRED AND LOVED AND STUFF!

Panthera Uncia  
  
  
                And I ask you why And you raise your sticks and cry and I fall. 

 

                Four Days Ago

 

                Stiles had stared at Jackson lying limp on the ground before him and felt more than bad. He felt ashamed for hurting him like that. He was healing slowly, but Stiles could still smell the spicy blood and the scent of pain. 

                Lydia was staring at Jackson with pity and disappointment while Allison stared at Stiles. 

                "You're Bast?" She asked, scowling but eyeing him with fascination. 

                "A what?" Scott piped in from behind her looking like a confused puppy. 

                "Imagine a WereCat. But they fully shift like an Alpha, but not just into one type of feline. If the Beastiary was right, they are children of a Demigod whose mother was an Egyptian cat goddess. She had a child who had the ability to change into any cat. But like all Bast they have a set Cat, like you all have your inner wolf. The cat varies depending on personality and body type. 

                "The son of the Demigod was a Lion. But the Lion wanted a Pride. He became depressed. In his sadness he gave his mind to the cat who wandered far. When he found a woman in the desert who was more beautiful than anything he forgot he wasn't a man and pounced. His claws dug into her and she was dying. He changed back into a man and prayed to Bastet that she would save the woman he loved. Bastet decided to give him a gift that he would pass on. The woman woke hours later, her body arching and she changed into a beautiful lioness. 

                "Bastet had given the Lion the gift to make more of his people, to build a pride. And each person he turned inherited the gift. His children were as he was and they all lived for nine hundred years. The Bast lived on. They are stronger than most werewolves but aren't bound to a changing cycle. They are able to stay and live as cats for any period of time. Their claws have a reversal toxin that forces whoever their attacker is to shift into their dormant and weaker form. If the attacker is human the toxin is a sleep agent. In Jackson's case, the weaker state was human. Despite belief, their hybrid form is their most dangerous and useful, when the cat and human mix they are skilled warriors, powerful legs and arms, a flexible spinal column, claws and fangs that can cut through bone like butter. “She circled him slowly, appraising him with an indulgent eye.  
                “Their tail is great for balance and in extension is an extra weapon. It is strong enough to snap the trunk of a mature tree with ease; should their tail get around you, you are finished. Their whiskers are their greatest advantage, like werewolves have heightened hearing the Bast does as well, but the whiskers are like hearing, sight, and touch all at once. They can detect movement a mile away if they wish to range out that far. But it isn't smart to attempt to touch them. Almost like a Kanima, Bast’s whiskers being touch can release a nerve agent that puts the body in shock, giving the cat time to put down its prey. 

                "But despite their offenses and defenses the Bast is a peaceful race, in Egypt they are a society known and revered by a select many. Bastet had a daughter as a gift to a mortal man who gave himself to Hades as payment. Bastet's first born offended the God of the underworld by making him wait so long to have her soul. Hades threatened the Goddess that if one soul in place for her daughter’s was not given, he would take her forcefully which would end the species permanently if there was no one to take her place. The man gave himself willingly after killing his sister to ensure he would go to Hades and in return for the kindness, Bastet willed humans to be protected by her second born daughter. Since then the Cats have bonded with humans, protecting them from the supernatural world and only changing a human if there is the will of the goddess in it." Allison finished and took a breath but all the while the pack had grown more and more wary, skittering back slightly from the boy they had thought was human, the boy who was now known to be the most lethal killer in Beacon Hills. Basil felt smug, Stiles felt sick.

                "So it was us then?" Lydia spoke up from beside him, eyes wary as she took his hand and studied the claws that were smoother and more pointed and curved than a wolfs. 

                "No..." He answered, reluctant. 

                "All of us?" Scott asked and Stiles' breathing hitched a bit, he nodded. 

                "I have been protecting you, luring you away from the town when one of you gets by Derek on the full moon. The night Jackson had made it to Lydia's house; I was the cat that attacked him. I was the reason he changed back. Lydia and Allison are my primary charges but I am bound to the pack. It has never happened before; our kind co-existing. Even for my kind, there is distaste... The cat holds itself above other supernatural beings but Basil... But I as a cat have always been fond of you, all of you, despite my being Bast, I have always loved you all, only wanted the very best for you all. Basil is happy that I have you in my life... had. That I had you in my life." Stiles finished and ignored the burning in his eyes that meant tears. 

                "What happened today? We're you hearing something?" Allison asked suddenly as if Stiles' freak out suddenly made sense. 

                He nearly choked, remembering the malice, the blood draining from his face and his breathing spiking quickly. 

                "Stiles?" Derek asked, moving down the stairs quickly but stopping himself. He had to be strong in front of his pack. His emotions didn't control him. Scott grabbed the cat by the shoulders and pulled out the inhaler he carried for his friend. 

                He stuck it in his mouth and pressed the button. The mist hit Stiles' tongue and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

                "The Alpha, Derek the Alpha! He's going to kill us. He's going to kill everyone!" Once he said it the roar of the beast vibrated inside his skull and made his ears ring like whistles. Stiles passed out, his body quivering as the change took him, a gray Bengal with black spots left in his place breathing frantically on the floor. The last thing he remembered was Derek's face above his and thicker arms picking him up and carrying him away and the burn of blood red eyes. The eyes of the Alpha. 

-

                In his dream Stiles was in the desert, in his cat form, a sleek and long cougar with a pink nose and lavender eyes. A simple white cat sat before him, tall and posed but as for what breed he didn't know, he had never seen this one before and that was something new to him. He was a walking talking cat-encyclopedia. She swished her long white tail that had three silver bells tied to it and they jingled musically. 

                _'Hello, Child of mine._ ' She said, her voice was smooth and light and misty but it purred around him, settling comfort into his bones. 

                'Bastet?' He asked dumbly. But the cat laughed and nodded, swishing her tail playfully. 

                _I make a point to talk to all my children when they are at the beginning of a cross roads. I'm a very hands on Goddess, but especially with you, Stiles Stilinski. You are quite important to me._ '

                “Why? I'm actually fucking up royally.” He looked away but a hand he didn't see guided his head back towards the cat. 

                _'Oh but you aren't. You are doing something I have wanted and willed for so long. But then you'll find Goddess’s can't contradict themselves._ ' And she sounded so much like a grumbling teenager he gawked.

                “I don't understand.” He simply said, tail twitching with self-pointed agitation. 

                _'My first will was to have those like me in the world. So I had a child and she was everything I could have hoped for then. And then I gave the gift of creation; allowing the race of my people to be spread. A cat does not play well with dogs. It never will. Not when it is tamed and willed by a strong tie to itself. As a people mine are selfish no matter the good that they do. They do it for their own love toward those they protect. If they saw an injured dog do you think they would think to help it?_ '

                'No.' He said. 

                _'No._ ' she repeated. _'They would not. I was young once, and still am in some ways and yet I am quite old in others. That is how being a being like myself works. We are many places and many ages all at once. It is a gift. A younger version of me that is far too proud has let my children be wasted in a war with creatures who are so similar to the ones I have sworn to protect. And my children have killed them as they have evolved to do_. 

                _'But you do not Stiles. You and your family have evolved further. Have taken another step spiritually and biologically and that makes you new. It gives you a way around my will. I am lucky that those of you who are this way are loyal to me. That you stand by my side will change the world, Stiles. As well as save it. There is a beast loose. Someone has betrayed me and created this monster in an attempt to end you so that I will lose the coming war. But she... They do not know of you and your changes, the changes that you will pass onto your Pride. You will defeat this creature in due time but know that more are coming led by one far worse and more powerful and twisted than I can bare to admit. I have shame when I shouldn't, Stiles Stilinski. I have allowed this._ '

                'You got red in your ledger.' He offered stupidly. 

                _'Yes._ ' She said, understanding the quote which surprised him, smiling fondly. He grinned briefly. 

                _'I have red in my ledger. Or as the Loki character had said, mine is dripping red.’_ She spat angrily and the white cats’ tail twitched spastically, ears pulling back against its scalp. _‘And I need your help to clean it. They will come back to you. Pieces you have lost. And sadly I must keep you from understanding that meaning. From knowing them even when you see them, until the time is right. It will keep you safe and help this terrible war end, but you have allies and you must form a Pride; Lydia first, then the Argent girl, and afterwards her father. They are who you need. One will come who I have enlightened and she will teach you so that you may teach them. Be my influence in this world, the voice of my children. Let you be the one they look to as their tie to me. For if you don't, your race and that of the ones you love is doomed. In due time you will remember and you must keep it to yourself in the end. Only in the end can the lines cross, only then can they each be made to see how alike we are._ '

                She swished her tail again and the bells rattled over and over growing dimmer but louder as the sand whirled around him, blocking the view. 

                When Stiles woke up he remembered very little of what the Goddess said. Her voice was lost like a memory from childhood long ago, indistinct and hard to recall. But he knew something was coming. ‘A great change’ she had said. He had to be ready. And he was strong enough. He knew that she wanted Lydia and Allison and strangely Allison's father Chris. He didn't know why, but interpreting the will of the Goddess wasn't his job. Listening to her was. 

                He stupidly opened his eyes to the blinding light and hissed weakly, snapping them shut again while he changed back from his hybrid form. He sighed inwardly, Basil a drift on the sea that was his Goddess, the attention she had given him while they talked was like catnip and the cat was more than a little high on life. 

                "Stiles?" Scott asked, his puppy dog eyes appearing as Stiles squinted experimentally. Allison and Lydia close beside him, mirroring faces of worry. He couldn't help but smile even if it was weakly. 

                "I know how Mufasa felt after the stampede." He groaned and clutched his head, remembering the earth quaking sound and the pain that made his brain swell. 

                "This is the start to a hundred bad cat jokes." Lydia huffed with exasperation but gripped his hand tighter. 

                "We have an open door to call him a putty tat, Lydia. Don't ruin this." Allison dimpled, eyeing Lydia conspiratorially and stroked his cheek.

                "Birds taste gross. I would know." He grimaced and sat up with Scott's help. He was on a faded Victorian green couch that was missing the pillows. 

                "Dude... a bird? Aren't you like the lens me of control? Why would you want to eat a bird?" Scott griped. 

                "Like you can talk; out there in the woods there will always be a Bromance that was torn apart when you ate thumper. Bambi is broless, Dude." 

                "If you are all done acting like he hasn't lied to us since he first walked through that door and told us he was safe." Derek snarled, Scott's face falling. 

                Stiles stood up ready to face the music and looked at Derek from across the room. Basil twitched; tail flicking with irritation towards Stiles. 

                "I didn't have a choice." He finally said. "I had a secret I needed to keep. I kept it."

                "You lied to all of us and spied." Jackson interjected and both Derek and Lydia glared him into submission. 

                "It wasn't a lie if you never asked." Goddess fuck the weak argument police. He had reasons okay?

                "If we trusted you with who we were-"  
                “Whom.” Lydia corrected and Derek growled

                "AS A HUMAN!" Stiles hissed, cutting off Derek. "As a being who was defenseless against your powers. There is no difference except now you know that were I inclined I could kick your asses. If I wanted to fuck with this pack, Derek, if I wanted to hurt anyone of you I'd have done it a shit load of time ago. I can kill you all. But I don't. I have saved each and every one of you from something and I’d like to think that earns me SOME trust…unless I was wrong. Unless none of you care for me just because of what I am. If it’s like that I’ll find the Alpha and kill it myself. But things are changing. Something is coming. My place is here. So... So vote." He volunteered. 

                "This isn't a democracy, you idiot." Derek snarled and Stiles was losing his patience. 

                "Oh yeah it's a dictatorship where what Alpha says goes because he has on his big boy pants. I wonder who the hell would have gotten you out of this coming shit storm if not for me. I wonder who made the plans and did the research and worked his ass off during the night finding the answers when Jackson was the Kanima, when the other Alphas came, when we had to kill Gerard. Who Hmm? Cause it wouldn't be your overloaded, giant, pig headed, inflating EGO!"

                Derek's teeth gnashed and Stiles swallowed. He wouldn't hurt Derek. Not unless he challenged him. Knock on Wo-

                "You want a place in the pack? You want to have a say in what happens here. You know how that works. You fight to the top; you don’t bitch your way there."

                Fuck. "Look here, Zuko, Queen of bitching silently like a broody broodster. This isn't the Fire... Nation of fucking people who make in appropriate pop culture references especially when they fucking compare to traumatic events." And Stiles is pretty sure had he not pointed it out Derek wouldn't have gotten it. But he was Stiles and his life was doomed to be a shit mess. 

                "Get. Out." Derek snapped, seeming all the more scary because he sounded so calm. 

                "Derek I’m sorr-"

                "I said." His nostrils flared. "Get. Out. Before I carry you out. In. Pieces."

                "With your teeth?" Stiles smirked. Derek nodded. 

                "Yes. With my teeth." He lunged at the cat faster, eyes suddenly vivid red and Stiles was twisting out of the way, sweeping his feet from under him with such force that he flipped twice in the air. Derek righted himself before hitting the ground and landed right before Stiles, fangs out, claws bared. Shit shit shit. 

                The nails cut into him and Stiles all but pinned the cat just beneath his skin, locking it away. He wouldn't hurt Derek. It felt oddly wrong, like he was going against something that was nestled into his soul. The wolf lifted him with his claws and pinned him to the wall, curling his fingers and making the cat hiss as the sensation of claws scraping against the bones of his rib made his teeth grit. 

                "Does it help?" Stiles whispered, using his sleeve to shakily wipe the blood trailing down Derek's fingers. 

                The wolf only snarled and Stiles stroked the hand that had the fingers embedded into him. He let his fingertips travel up the wrist and explore the generously muscled, olive toned arm, tracing the pale veins all the way to the shoulder. Derek was angry. Stiles knew that. He knew all the nights the man lay in his bed and wept and hated everything about his life, hated how he sometimes smiled and sometimes laughed and how he was sometimes genuinely happy. The wolf hated how he wasn't suffering alone, close to death and miserable. He hated how Laura and Vivian and Valentine and his little sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles and how his WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY WAS DEAD! Dead while he lived on as the one who killed them. 

                "They forgive you." Stiles whispered, the waves of pure defeat emanating off the man making him talk. "They left with a sigh and blew away and she still feels sorrow that you don't smile more. She mourns the boy she left behind, the bright young man who had dreams and ambition and drive and a yearn for life. She forgives you, Derek Hale. Erica does. Boyd. Scott. Laura, your father... Me... And I know how much it hurts to hate yourself for being what you are” Stiles choked on tears but scowled and forced the words out, his throat thick and tight. “Alive. When what you want most is dead. But you can't live like that. She wouldn't want it. 

                "And...D-Derek I don't want that. God I'm going to sound like the freaking Notebook. What do you want, Derek?!" Stiles snarled and whirled them around, forcing his feet down to meet the ground and boxing Derek into the corner. "Not what you think you want or what you think you deserve. What the fuck do you want? Do you wanna kill me for knowing what your mother would want? For knowing how this, this right here," he gestured to the fingers hooked on his ribs and the blood pouring from him slowly but steadily. “How it breaks her heart? Fine; push a little harder and just claw until I drown on my own blood. 

                "But not until you tell me Dammit. What do you want?! Do you wanna live and be happy again and stop having to grimace after every smile or grin or smirk? After every snicker or bit of laughter? Then do it and don't regret it. Do you want family? Because you have one right here! In front of you. All around you. We already love you so if you want to love, then fucking love. But don't do this. Don't live this half-life. I'd rather see you dead than to put up with your measured existence."

                Stiles grimaced in pain and sucked in a sharp breath, head spinning and body aching against the change, tears of more than on kind of pain washing down his pale face. “I’d rather die than see you this broken anymore. I'm the one who was there when you cried, Derek. Every night. And you can't even allow yourself to forgive this because of how cold you've made yourself. So choose. Life or death. I'll love you in both. But I'll only be with you in one." Stiles pulled the fingers out of him with a painful gasp and tucked the handkerchief into the stunned and crying Alpha's hand before turning away from him. Bad ass Stiles made it to the door. Bad ass Stiles jumped off the porch and changed midair before tearing out if there and being bad ass somewhere else while Derek longed for him. But he wasn't bad ass Stiles, he was massive blood loss Stiles whose life wasn't a lifetime movie or at the very least an epic version of New Moon. Nope. Massive blood loss Stiles pulled a Bella and passed the fuck out in a puddle of his own blood at the feet of the man he loved more than anything, even when he knew there was a chance he could never have him. 

 

-

 

                Stiles woke up on the large mattress in his home, the walls of the cabin smelling like lavender and maple, the scents soothing and mouthwatering all at once. A warm dry cloth passed over his forehead and chased away some of the chill that had seemed to settle into his bones. He was purring loudly, his tail curled possessively around something; someone’s wrist. 

                "It's just me." Lydia said soothingly when she felt the slight tighten of his tail. "You've been out for three days. I'm just going to say its stress since you healed within the first hour. Fun. Scott and Allison are at her house with Melissa. Erica, Boyd and Jackson are staying at the Animal Clinic. Deaton has it werewolf proofed so they should be safe. And.... Derek is at the house... Alone.” She bit her lip and ran the warm clothe over his forehead again. He must have shivered without realizing it. 

                "Allison says you are like how Jackson used to be. She said that even if you don't classify like werewolves that you are still an Omega; a lone cat. She says those are rare."

                "They are. We are. Most of the time a car is part of a Pride or the Head of one. A lone cat doesn't suffer like an Omega because we feel no draw towards other Pride Leaders. We are just tasked with making our own Prides. Some people leave a Pride because they want to start one of their own; it is not as bad as a wolf leaving their pack. There is no animosity."

                "Would I still be part of the pack...? If I was in your Pride." Lydia shifted and stared down at Stiles and he felt shaken. She looked so unsure, so scared. He didn't blame her, and he knew why she wanted this, because of her nightmare, her living hell that was Peter’s spirit haunting her until Stiles forced it away. She felt weak and this was her way of feeling strong. 

                "I don't know. That's up to...Up to your Alpha. He makes the rules." Stiles couldn't even say his name. It turned his stomach, like he swallowed a gallon of dead butterflies that were now clawing their way up. Nope… that was puke. He forced the bile back down and panted weakly. 

                "Then do it. I don't want people making rules for me. I don't want to have to submit. I want to help I just don't want to wear a leash."

                "Ly-"

                "Don’t start with me. I know what I'm doing. You obviously need the help. We need the numbers and you can't win unless you are at your strongest. Do it, Stilinski." She snapped and she held out her arm, gritting her teeth and screwing her eyes shut tight. 

                His claws slid out with a snick and he didn't hesitate to rake them down the inside of her arm; the scent of her blood changing in the air with the scent of the venom. She curled up, bleeding on his bed sheets and went to sleep, balled up against his chest. 

                Sometimes he just loved that Lydia Martin girl. 

 

-

                Lydia~

 

                "Stiles shut up." She groaned, curling in on herself tighter and squeezing her eyes shut, snuggling into his warmth even though he kept on with the damn chattering. 

                Except it wasn't chattering, she realized. There wasn't really sound. There was sound but not from Stiles who snored beside her, a dream of Derek chasing his own tail as a puppy running through his head. She was about to move when she gasped, body tense. 

                It was like falling down accidentally at first, like when you dream you are walking on the sidewalk and your foot slips off the curb and you jerk in the waking world. She didn’t jerk into the waking world, she jerked into a dream for a split second, a small grotto where a shirtless Stiles stood with a broad smile and a happy twinkle in his eye looking for the entire world like the cover of a teenager romance novel. She was curious when she came out of it but she couldn't force it on, it would just suck her into her own head, and in extension, everyone else's. She didn't know whose brain she fell into; just that there was porn and willow wisps. Lots of wisps.

                And because every girl knew just how hot two very sexy dudes going at it was... She watched, and as she did she was pretty sure it was Derek's dream. 

                Stiles was leaning back against the giant willow tree, bare chest and eyes inviting when Derek stepped into the small grotto that was ringed by the swaying tendrils of the green giant. In the cool shadows it was easy for the wolf to forget for a moment how different they were, and more importantly, how much pain he was in. 

                "I miss being with you when you sleep." Dream Stiles smiled. 

                "I miss you being there. I never realized how cold that bed was when you sleep in it alone." Derek said, looking sheepish and god who was he, Lydia though. The voice was tender and gentle, like the way you sound when you read poetry and so help them if she cried. She hunkered down and committed to seeing it through. 

                "Are you cold now?" Stiles asked, pushing off of the tree and coming to stand by Derek, taking his hand. Side by side Lydia realized Stiles really was an inch taller than the Alpha. Derek tended to physically over power everyone, it was no wonder she never noticed. 

                "Yeah but I like it cold." His voice was defensive, and outside the grotto a snow storm kicked up, rattled the wisps that shielded them and charging the air with a chill that was electric. 

                "The cold won’t keep out the fire." The cat pointed out, dropping Derek's hand with a grimace, turning away from him. 

                "It helps keep it from burning too bad. There's a pain that comes with fire."

                "Yeah but now all fire is bad. Only to you it is. You freeze everything out. Even me... And you love me..."

                "Loving you burns." Derek admitted, voice a mere whisper.

                "It's funny. I could say the same thing about you. But if you fear the fire, you leave me to freeze. And ice burns deeper, Derek." The cat snapped and Derek and Lydia watched as Stiles began to turn blue, his hair coated with ice. 

                "Stiles wait!"

                "Derek choose!" The cat chattered, lips a deep purple, like they were bruised. 

                "Stiles please... You know I can't." And when he said can't it was with regret, his voice keening and tears streamed down his face. 

                "If you can't choose a life with me you can't have any of me." And in the grotto Stiles caught fire, shivering all the while. 

                Derek screamed and pounded the ground, stepping closer only to have the fire arch and stretch higher, forcing him back. 

                "Not all fire is bad, Derek. If you love me...  If you love me we can burn together and I’ll do what I can to keep us from burning down. It only hurts when you burn alone."

                "Does it hurt now?" Derek crouched just outside the flames, shifting and whimpering as the fire kicked across his cheeks and Lydia knew he was testing himself. He was, in a sense, listening to Stiles, he was battling away his demons. 

                "A little closer." Stiles urged, hand reaching. 

                The wolfs fingertips brushed the outside of the flame and sparks came off of them, shimmering and glowing before dying off like sparklers. 

                "Stiles I'm scared." The wolf whimpered but he didn't move. Lydia was openly crying, tears streaming down her face and fuck this Derek was better than Allie or the notebook or any other romance she’d seen before, and Stiles was just perfect. 

                "You don't have to be scared with me. You won't fight all the monsters alone. Just come burn with me. Burn with me and don't let me keep hurting like this. You'll always be scared and hurting if you don't get off your werewolf ass and get in here. Please, Derek!" Stiles slowly being consumed, the fire flushing his cheeks and his cheeks dripped tears that shimmered and burned like stars. Lydia understood that he was burning from the inside. That the fire was both his pain and one of Derek's strongest demons. 

                Derek's form wavered between man and wolf, the wolf at the edge of the grotto and the man slinking closer to the flames and yes... That was the sheer truth, the fact that if Derek didn't learn to love he would be nothing but an animal anymore. He would lose everything he had to fear and paranoia and the instinct of the wolf. 

                "If we burn... We burn together." His irises were like windows into his body, and in them flames swirled, chipping and charring him; splinters appeared on the surface of his skin, cracks breaking across him like he was made of marble. "I won't ever let you be alone." He pleaded and with that the wolf snarled and Derek lunged into the fire. 

                The flames died gradually, with Derek swatting and trying to curl in on himself while Stiles stilled him, bringing the wolf against his lean chest and staring down at him from that one fricken fracken sexy as fuck inch Jesus. Stiles' hands worked over Derek's face, wiping the tears and kissing the wolfs quivering lips until they stilled. Lydia had never seen Derek look so fragile. He was still strong and sure, but this Derek was different, he had a visible weakness. Like a house with an open window somehow looks all the more easy to tear down. It softened his face and made it look beautiful rather than menacing. It loosened the tense set around his eyes that made them open and his lips released from the pressed line she had always seen and holy hell Derek had a sexy mouth. 

                Stiles closed in on that mouth, lips testing the wolfs softly before grabbing the older man by the waist and curving him against his lean hard body, claiming the lips he had so longed to claim, he whirled around and put Derek's back against the tree and the wolf wrapped his legs around Stiles, strong arms going around his neck and the sounds. Derek was whimpering as Stiles purring as he crushed their bodies together in a way that made them shift and blur and become one for a few moments in the reality of Derek's mind, but they always blurred and synced, need staying two different entities for long. 

                "Your lips are like candy." Stiles grinned a naughty grin and nuzzled his jaw against the wolves, both of them letting out sounds of happiness from the touch. 

                "It all seems so... Sickeningly sweet." The females’ voice said from outside the wisps before she was there and Lydia snarled. Kate Argent was fucking with her OTP. This bitch was going down. 

                Behind her something else entered, the grotto growing dark in the presence of the other wolf. It as an Alpha obviously but it was sick and wrong looking, limbs twisted and mismatch, some even human... And this was the sick reality. This is what Stiles had meant about Derek not letting himself be happy. This wolf was his reminder to himself that everyone else was dead and when Derek let himself be happy, he would torture himself. Lydia hadn’t wanted to mane and kill something so bad before. Distantly she felt her claws push out for the first time but she wasn't really there. She was like a phantom. She had no real presence inside another person’s mind.

                "What would your mother say, Derek? Surely she would want you dating the evil bitch who cooked them all alive rather than this errant of a broken litter?" Kate loosened her hand and the wolf stepped closer slightly. That's when Lydia saw the leash she was holding. The memory of Kate held the leash to Derek's own torture. Lydia groaned. When this shit was over, therapy, a lot of therapy six times a week and heavy prescription drugs. This was a sick that surpassed even her nightmares about Peter and teeth and jaws and tongues. She shuddered because... Peters face was on the side of the wolf, burned and scorched and dead, eyes open and alpha red, wheeling around like he was mad, his teeth snapping and snarling.

                "I'll show you an errant litter." Stiles snarled and then he saw Derek shrinking back and the faint aura of fire catching around the wolf and he gripped him tight. 

                "Derek that wolf isn't real. That's not your family and that isn't really Kate Argent. You killed Peter for murdering your sister, remember? You didn't kill her, you avenged Laura. You did right by her."

                "Oh yes the wittle puppy saved his big sister huh? He's such a good boy. But he would have gotten her burned too anyway. Just like his dad and his mom and-"

                "You leave Vivian out of this. I know her. I know what she feels. I was alive to watch her grow and I know she would forgive Derek of anything. I wonder if Gerard forgave you for falling like a weak little girl for a werewolf. Did daddy forgive little Katie for loving a pup?" Stiles' voice was menacing and cold and Lydia knew he was handing Derek a knife, giving him a way to fight back. The Alphas leash shortened and he snarled and roared and the sound was filled with the screams of Derek's family as they burned. Lots and lots of prescription drugs, Lydia thought. Some serious uppers and Anti-Depressants. 

                "Stiles help." Derek whimpered and it was more than a little fascinating to see the way Derek's mind painted Stiles as this savior and defender. This Stiles was compounded from memories of Stiles and impressions and opinions, all of them good and pure. When she thought about it the perception of what she saw changed momentarily and it was like looking through thermal binoculars, except she didn't see the temperature she saw what things consisted of. Stiles was a glowing figure of laughter and bad jokes and small secret and private smiles and grins, twinkling brown eyes and humorous and sarcastic snorts. Kate was blood and sex and fire and nails tearing into his back when he was young and inexperienced and how he hadn't wanted to do more but she hadn't stopped straddling him. And it was there under the fire that she also consisted of rape, because Derek had said no, and even when you are a guy, no means no. Lydia was mother fucking pissed.

                The perception changed back and Stiles was down on all fours, shifting, a roar ripping through the mouth of the lion that made the wisps tremble and shake. It was not just a roar it was a cry and a prayer and a force of sheer will. Like a light exploding, a flash burst from the lion’s lips and it was Stiles and Derek laughing and Derek's mother’s voice and the feeling of his father squeezing his shoulder fondly. It was even Peter’s bear hugs and his baby sisters cooing toddler voice trying to say his name right and how that used to make him smile. Stiles was the weapon but Derek pulled that trigger. He cried as he listened and those hidden and guilty memories were aired out and made good again. A lightness came to the realm of his dream. Kate and the wolf were frozen in a pillar of light and Lydia watched transfixed as a beautiful tan woman with black hair that hung to her waist walked gracefully into the grotto. The breeze stirred around her and made her image seem always in motion, never resting. It was when she looked straight at Lydia with a knowing and indulgent smile that Lydia knew who she was and gasped slightly, but when she tried to leave she couldn't. 

                _'Derek?_ ' She asked and dream Derek stood up a little straighter, Stiles by his side again. 

                "I’m Derek." The wolf supplied stupidly and the Goddess smiled. Stiles looked confused which just reinforced the knowledge that it was just dream Stiles. 

                _'I know who you are, Alpha. I just seemed to have interrupted a rather lopsided battle. He's amazing that one isn't he?'_ She asked, gesturing to Stiles and Derek nodded. 

                "I think so." He grinned a school boy grin and Lydia prayed the Goddess wasn't there to destroy him. 

                _'As do I. You love him quite a lot; it's a type of love one doesn't see much of anymore. It's awe inspiring. So much raw desire and faith in one person. And he feels the same. But sshh. Don't tell him I told you. He is all for the big reveal isn't he? Flowers and candles.'_ The Goddess snickered a cat like laugh and sank down to sit near the small pond in the grotto. _'Come here, child of Lycos. There is much I must show you whilst I am here.'_

                Derek walked to the small round pond and folded himself on his knees near the Goddess before he looked at her full in the face and god she was huge compared to him. She reminded Lydia of the Navi people from AVATAR. 

                "Are you Bastet?" He asked, and Lydia shook her head. Boys were stupid. She pursed her lips as if she doubted how he was trusted to breathe on his own and continued watching. 

                _'I am._ ' And did Lydia see that same look on the woman's face? _'But I am here to see you. Not one of my children. And this visit is between the two of us._ ' She smiled and Lydia felt the nudge from beside where she watched and looked over to see the white cat with bells on its tail giving her a pointed look. She resisted the urge to duh the feline. 

                _'As a cat Goddess one wouldn't think I knew much about wolves. But I do. And I know how after you wake up you will have to claim the boy as he has already claimed you. I understand. But I have to ask you to wait.  Only until after you all take out the Alpha. If his eyes are clouded with emotion he won't defeat the beast... and Derek... It is very much a beast. Not because of species but for how it has been tainted. It has been infected with darkness... a spirit of hunger. And that spirit makes it more malevolent, more powerful than I can stand to admit. Defeat the beast with Stiles and then love him. He will need you then for what lies after. And I'm going to apologize a head of time for that. I am truly sorry.'_

                "It's kind of hard to be hopeful and think of loving him when you say things like that." He grimaced and scowled. 

                _'You'll find that the two of you can endure any fire. I would know. I'm the Goddess.'_ She smirked and smiled fondly at Lydia before turning back to Derek. 

                _'Just be ready. It won't be pretty and it won't be easy. But you will win. And then it will get ugly again. After that... It has yet to be seen... As far as that is concerned. May I?_ ' She gestured towards Kate and the Wolf. Derek hasn't noticed Stiles had vanished. 

                "What?"

                _'These are truly useless and torturous memories. I can make it so you won't forget them but they will be less accessible to be brought out and used. You have struggled enough_.'

                "How?" His voice was gruff with emotion and a purring soothed through the grotto, lulling the wolf gently. 

                _'Just by locking them away; it's a simple thing. If you do it you have to train yourself not to open them and that could take a lot of time. If I do it, it will be held by my will. And the will of the Goddess is a powerful thing.'_ Her eyes flashed. 

                "I don't ever want to see those things again." Was all Derek said before they were gone and the light shined in the Grotto again. 

                _'I’ll be seeing you, Wolf Man.'_ she smiled fully at him and he grinned big, laughing a very non Derek laugh that made Lydia's heart flutter at his happiness. 

                He nodded, still a man of few words and the dream fractured around the edges before it fell away and Lydia was thrust into back into her own mind. 

-

                Stiles stared at Lydia with a look of confusion. Maybe that was a side effect if you didn't take to the change. You went crazy. She was gasping and laughing and full on bawling all at once, scrubbing at her eyes and giggling hysterically. 

                "Should I be worried...?" Stiles approached her gently. 

                "Shut up, Stilinski." She snapped and threw her arms around him to cry and laugh some more. 

 

-

                Derek shot straight up out of the dream feeling renewed somehow, like he was alive all over again. He was smiling, unabashed, his heart beating swiftly and butterflies flying around in his stomach. 

                "I’m in love." He gasped and leaped from the bed. The morning sun was high and he needed his pack. All of them. Every last one. 

 

-

 

                Lydia strut across the small but homey cabin and ripped open the wardrobe as if doors were an insult to her very nature before gasping in horror. It was Hill Billy hell.

 

                "You know if you are gay I expect more from you." She snapped and skewered him with a look when he laid there on the bed thinking about that song that mentioned old school Atari. He had to YouTube it bad. 

                "Celo Green- Fuck you." She deadpanned and he jumped up. 

                "Thank you I've been wracking my brain to figure out who sang that song... How did you know?" He stared dumbfounded.

                In answer she just tapped her temple and sighed. 

                "You need to go shopping with me.” She said as if she hadn’t told something to Stiles that was both nerve wracking and inducing on large amounts of anxiety. What if he thought about porn or Derek and his muscular thighs or maybe how sexy it would be to see him whimpering beneath Stiles while he- UGH! He flailed his hands. Mind reading wasn’t even normal, not for children of Bast.  
                _‘Evolution’_ The ethereal voice whispered to him and he nodded. Changes, lots and lots of changes.  
                Stiles looked up from his new favorite spot on the floor to see Lydia staring at him with a single arched brow and pursed lips.  
                “We are all going shopping, Loser. Get your keys.”  
                “All?” Stiles nearly yipped… Like a dog. Basil twitched an ear and flicked his tail in annoyance.  
                “Allison, Erica, Scott, Boyd, You, Me… Derek.” She was hesitant to add the last one despite knowing how ecstatic the Alpha was to just be around his pack and for once be able to take in their happiness and contentment without feeling like a martyr.  
                “No. Yes. See. I can’t go?” He asked. It should have been a statement because that shit was obviously factual. He COULDN’T go. Not with Derek there all… himself. He had just nearly killed Stiles a few days ago and maybe he was still massive blood loss Stiles. If he pretended to faint would Lydia still drag him to the mall?  
                _“Yup.”_ She said, popping the ‘p’ at the end sarcastically.  
  
                Sometimes he hated that Lydia Cullen… Martin. Lydia Martin. Stiles smirked.


	4. Lighting The Torch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack feels bloody violence BAMF stiles serious Sterek feels and argentawkward situations :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kind of not so very confident about this chapter, IDK why, But I'm in love with it now. So yep. There is a lot and trust me, this story is far from over. The war hasn't ended, in fact it has really just begun.

                "It's never easy." Sandra said, stepping up behind the brown haired Bast.   
                "I’ve never struck my own kid before. I might have cuffed once or twice for being an idiot if I'd been around for the rest of his teenage years, but I never would've thought I'd sink my claws into him."  
                "It was that or a fight to the death with one of your Pride. You made the right call." The white haired woman assured Stella, who only nodded. Dalmaria was pacing in her cage under Stella's rebuke. The tiger didn't like striking her cub any more than Stella liked it. She remembered the days when their shift was tied together. When her Stiles would meow and try to roar and all that would come out was a squall. She would take him out into the forest and let her cub run, pouncing on birds and sharpening his claws on tree bark. He would find his way into trouble; curling up inside a poison berry bush, little cub teeth ready to pluck one and she'd pick him up by his scruff, capturing his neck in her big teeth, and carry him away, growling all the while, his little figure curling up at the rebuke. Seeing her baby made her ache deep down and she wanted him to be small again so she could pick him up and get him out of trouble. But he was a big boy now, stuck in the middle of this terrible war. Stella leaned her head on her sisters’ shoulder and wept, clinging to the older Bast as she sobbed. She had grown stronger in the years separated from her baby, but nothing quelled that longing to hold him again.   
She heard more than felt John enter the small opening surrounded by brush and trees. The lion curled up around the back of his mate and purred, nuzzling against her. Delmaria chuffed and the woman changed, curling against her mate in her set feline form, biting his ear every once in a while. John laid his head on her neck and growled possessively. She chuffed exasperated as if to say "You old needy fool." She curled into him closer their tails locking together.   
                  Sandra left the two to be together and scaled up the fir tree easily, sitting down beside the lynx cat that stared off into the night longingly.   
                "It's never easy, longing from a far." She said softly and brushed her fingers down the cats back.   
He looked at her, his body shifting into a regular tabby, managing to look like a wounded kitten.   
                "She is pretty though. From what Stella told me. I can't blame you for liking her."  
He butted his head against her as if to say she wasn't grasping how bad he had it and she chuckled.   
                "I haven't been a teenager for a while; I forget the woes of young love. I managed to find my mate soon, but the trial was not easy." Her sigh was filled with longing. Out there in the night Bowser ran, tracking the young Betas who were hunting constantly, hiding the bodies and burning those he killed. She worried.   
                Isaac longed.   
                And deep in the night Stiles was waking with a panic.   
-  
  
                Stiles watched through another cats’ eyes as it ran towards his small cabin and seemed to move through the walls. It didn't slow to stalk quietly like a hunter but bolted through to him room where his sleeping figure twitched with anxiety. It pounced on him and Stiles woke with a yowl, his form already shifting. In his mind Milan (which Lydia had insisted on calling her inner cat for some female reason) twitched and curled in on herself almost underneath Basil who bared his teeth and hissed. He could feel her large heart pumping fast in his own mind and the urge to protect his Pride willed him forward. Allison was there too, in his head, her human figure wavering and unclear. She was a part of his pride but not as psychically connected as Lydia without a cat.   
Milan seemed like a ghost, a phantom in front I him the steered him through the wilderness. He ran with a long white cloth hanging from his mouth and a hold pendant. He figured he would have to be speaking and he was t an exhibitionist.   
                The leopard seemed to fly and Stiles found he was able to run even faster as well, the added power of having a Pride. Allison and her father would make him even stronger.   
The clearing was up a head and he could hear the fighting, the hissing of Bast and the snarling of wolves. Beacon hills wasn't his, it was Derek's so he couldn't logically be upset of other felines encroaching on his pride lands but it stilled pissed Basil off. The cat in him wanted to tear and slash and force the cats to accept him as their Patriarch or get the fuck out. That's when he heard her. The female voice that he couldn't place because it sounded like it was spoken through cotton. But he knew what she was saying.    
"Morrel get the Alpha hostage! Isaac get the girls, we don't have time, FUCK!"  
Get the girls. The girls. His charges.   
                He paid no mind to stealth as he gathered the strength in his hind legs, using his tail to lush him further he cleared the ten feet before him over the low brush and smaller trees that ringed the clearing and the yard after that to tackle down the male with the curly brown hair that was slowly stalking towards Lydia and Allison. Lydia was crouching on front of Allison, driven to defend the weaker member of the Pride until he got there.   
                The Bast went down under Stiles and curled in on himself defensively, a gray lynx where there had once been a boy. Basil overpowered the human that he stemmed from and took over, snapping his teeth and demanding submission. He was the leader of this pride, he wanted more power. The cat fell to its side revealing to vulnerable softness of its flank and furry belly. Stiles' claws shot out and he knew Derek was watching him but his cat had control. To mark the Bast would be to claim him and pull him into his pride.  
                The feline would be obedient until Stiles and Basil deemed him trust worthy. He was in his Hybrid form, clawed hand lifted and ready to tear through to the soft skin when the heavy body of the tigress plowed him over. The dark skinned woman was suddenly there, lifting the lynx and throwing him half the distance of the field. The cat changed back into a boy and stared at Lydia with a burning intensity Stiles was familiar with. It was the way Derek was looking at him now.   
                Basil hissed and paced inside of Stiles but the boy had control again. He rose and grabbed the jeans the other male had worn before he changed. They were tight against his body like a second skin and didn't come up all the way but it was better than the Toga like skirt he had brought that fastened with the gold pin. His hip bones and the hair that made the trail below his naval was visible and his tail stuck out from the back, swishing in agitation. But he had other things to worry about than looking like a secret sex kitten. If only he had the ears in top of his head.   
He walked over to Lydia and Allison and looked them over checking for wounds. Both girls nuzzled close and he purred, Lydia nuzzled her jaw against his and Allison followed suit, finding a comfort in the gesture she didn't expect.   
                His whiskers twitched a second before the hand wrapped around the base of his tail and pulled. Lydia hissed but Basil was out in a second, reacting the violation. His tail wrapped around the arm and constricted, feeling the vibrations as the bone broke in three places. His tail pulled down and a yelp of pain broke through the beta's lips as he slammed into the ground. Stiles turned and stared into Jackson's eyes, crouching low to look at him closer, and their faces six inches apart.   
                "I made the mistake of thinking you had learned. You haven't. You may be a dog but you’re just as much of a snake." Stiles dug his claws into the wolfs arm, haunting the healing process.  
                "This is your last warning, one more time and I won't bother wondering what Derek would think if I killed you. And it just eats you up that I can, huh?" His voice was getting cold and murderous and he willed Basil away, knowing his limits.   
                He mock punched Scott's not so still healing arm and gave Boyd a thumbs up for being such a big BAMF dude before he turned to Derek with a goofy grin.   
                "I know I'm cool." He said and Derek rolled his eyes. "If you wanted to have corrected him then I'm sorr-"  
                "It was your place. You're pack but you also have to defend yourself and hold your place. He's always been sour that you rank higher." He cut Stiles off.  
                "Higher?" Stiles was more than dumbfounded.   
                "You are my Second Beta. Erica is my first. It's the job of the first and second Beta to fight with the Alpha always. You have my back. I trust you." Stiles thought his might have swallowed his tongue by the way he looked startled and coughed loudly.   
                "Well you're one to talk about being sour. Now c’mere and give me a huggie." Stiles cooed.   
                "Stiles I don't want a huggie." His heart stuttered and he blushed deeply.   
                "Der you're gonna give me a huggie."   
                "Stiles no."  
                "I'll take by force." He purred playfully, chuckling at the hitch in Derek's breathing and the scent of pure want wafting off his skin.   
                "No."  
                Stiles tackled the Alpha and pinned him, arms wrapping around his waist and jaw brushing against the wolfs scruffy one, purring at the tantalizing feel of stubble that he wanted to bite and lick. Stiles blushed but Derek was hugging back which surprised him, locking Stiles against him and nuzzling back. He chalked it up to a pack thing and the desire the fact that Stiles was wearing very little.   
In retrospect, after your Pack and Pride just get out of a battle, though small. It's smart to clear out and not longer if only for the sake of getting away from bad memories and energy. Stiles knew from experience that fights drew danger like flies drew sugar.   
                That's why he wasn't shocked to see Lydia take her claws across Jackson's face in one quick flash.   
                "You bitch!" He snarled and she dropped back onto her hands, her Armani pumps sending him flipping through the air. It was strange but pleasing how she had delivered that blow just like Stiles had days ago. He wasn't expecting, none of them were, for the group of Betas to jump out from hiding and leap onto the injured wolf, their teeth digging into him and their eyes flashing dull burgundy. Jackson screamed and bellowed in pain and the pack watched in horror as they sucked him dry in seconds, his face paling dramatically and his lips turning an almost white. His heart beat fell silent and more Betas ran into the clearing within seconds.   
  
                Stiles felt Lydia move to cover Allison, Stiles and Erica both slipped closer to Derek and it was odd, his instincts syncing with the pack for the first time, the thrill washed through him, strength siting in his limbs and he knew the pack and Lydia felt it too. They were stronger together.   
The new betas were rabid; it was easy to see they were uncontrolled and barely human. They walked on hands and feet, all animal, backs arched down and some of them had strange inflections about their faces.  
                 It reminded him of underworld, the way the Vampire/Lycan hybrid appeared. He had loved that because it was somewhat similar to the way Bast appears when in their hybrid state just without the skin color hanging and the jaw jutting forward and Bast had tails, though Lydia had argued that in their Hybrid form there were more like the blue people from AVATAR; Lydia being a sci-fi movie geek at heart.   
But these creatures had the jaws that shot forward like half muzzles, and they walked like apes almost. The way they drained Jackson... It hit him the same time it hit Scott which was a surprise even though Scott had seen underworld with him, he still wasn't the sharpest set of claws in the pack.   
                "Stiles they can't be." Lydia protested.   
                "What?" Derek asked, stepping closer to Stiles. Basil smiled.   
                "What else would drain its victim?" He asked rather than saying the word. To say it felt like to signal them to attack and they were outnumbered fifteen to seven. Allison couldn't fight these in hand to hand, Stiles knew, but it was too late to send her running.   
                "Vampires?" Derek asked even though it sounded like he didn't believe him. Erica growled and Scott wrinkled his nose. Boyd just looked determined to rip and tear. The pack formed a line, albeit a small one. Derek was at the heart, Stiles and Erica at his flanks; Boyd beside Erica, Scott beside Stiles with Lydia, Allison behind them both.  
                "They are waiting for an order." Lydia said and Stiles groaned because with Vampires and Werewolves and fucked up anticlimactic waiting he felt like he was in a L.A.R.P of Breaking Dawn part two. At least Lydia was Edward instead of him. He realized curtly that he was Jasper since he was an Empath... That made Derek his Alice. He doubled over laughing and Lydia hissed long and hard at him as he gasped for air.   
                "Stiles!" Derek snapped and the cat sobered, grinning from ear to ear around his fangs.   
                "Sorry. I just had a me moment. I'm good."  
                "We should call for help." Lydia said, anxiety making her inner cat twitch and flick its tail about. Basil was too busy being cocky, retracting and snapping his nails out over and over. His inner cat could be blood thirsty.   
                "Who do you suggest we call that could stand up to this? Who IS there to call?"  
                "Not _who_." She snapped like he was stupid and he was sure she thought he was after his laughing fit. “I was thinking more of a _WHAT_." She hissed, eyeing him meaningfully. Ah. And then he was sure she had been reading his hand written Bastiary that held all the knowledge he knew on his species.       The myth and legends and the facts and fiction, she wanted him to call for help, just not people. She wanted him to call cats.   
                "What is she talking about?" Scott asked, him and Derek were eyeing Stiles in confusion. God the way Derek scrunched his nose just a little bit when he didn't understand was cute. He grinned at the Alpha before slowly crouching low, putting his head to the ground and attempted to change only his vocal cords. It wasn't easy, and rarely possible. It was the sign of strong Bast that they could change key parts of their person; command certain cats to affect certain functions. His father and mother could do it. He remembered the night other cats had shown up in their strange white cloaks, the tall slender woman who was naked in the moon light. Stiles had been seven. His mother and him were in the attic and watched from the small porthole window as his dad turned into the huge lion that he favored. He was always proud of his dad for being a lion. It was the coolest cat he had thought when he was a kid. His dad had opened his mouth and spoke then, the words chopped and hard to understand, but it was human even if it was gruff and snarl like.   
                When his father had spoken the woman had jerked as if she understood and Stiles felt how scared she was. Being an empath was part of the reason he was how he was. Gentle and only dangerous when need he. He grew up feeling the sadness and hurt feelings of others when they were hurt or beat up. Or when they were scared; that woman had been scared.   
Stiles inhaled and focused on the sound he needed. The call was a lot like how a wolf howls to signal its pack. Bast can call their Pride nearly the same way, but more with a yowl or a hiss. Calling actual felines was different. You could do it as a cat, but you had to keep the form to keep the cats trust.  To call for help he had to merge the two, call the creatures while he was still as he was, still Stiles, so they trusted him.   
  
-  
                The sound that came out of Stiles shocked Derek. It was louder than a wolfs howl, it was like thunder. It thrummed the way a helicopters blades did. It was mixed with chuffing and purring and growling and rolled out of him like waves, continuous and unbroken until it ended and Stiles gasped for air, his eyes wide and shocked. He wasn't able to see the flash of white that came over his eyes the way Derek did. He had seen it twice before. In the tiger woman with the brown hair who had attacked him today and in the eyes of the Goddess when she spoke to him. Derek got the impression that Stiles didn't know how powerful he was.   
                In the distance Derek heard the faint thunder of padded paws on the ground and the collective growls and yowls that answered the Bast who called. Help was coming.   
  
-  
  
                Stiles groaned as he recovered from the sound that raked out of him when the fluffy white Persian trotted into the clearing and stood their primly. Was this the Goddess's idea of a joke? And then the rest ran in. Cougars and bobcats and some mountain lion that he didn't know were native to beacon hills. He wheezed out a snicker when he saw the flash of the goddess smiling in his head. No... Mountain lions weren't native to Beacon Hills, they were loyal to the Goddess in their own primal way and this was her will.   
  
-  
  
                Lydia felt like Natiri for a moment, the rush of pure vicious joy the clattered through her was shocking. The seventy five huge cats, not including the house cats from the town nearby that were still trotting into the clearing, framed the pack, crouched low, and tails flicking in readiness. She let the change wash over her for the first time, Milan dancing in the forefront of her mind, merging with the human and turning her lethal. Allison grinned down at her and Lydia smiled what she thought was a smile back.   
The clouds swept across the nearly full moon, darkening the clearing and everything took on a highlighted look, like everything was misted with neon colors and there was a black light. The colors stayed the same but it was brighter to her cat eyes.   
                She hissed and the cats joined her. Enough stalling. Stiles took the first few running steps the broke the damn, his eyes were white in the dark, more than the color of moonstones, they were offshore around his slotted pupils.   
                The pack besides Scott charged and Lydia led in the actual cats, leaping and tearing into the first throat. The sounds of violence and carnage were intoxicating and pushed Milan to fight harder and faster, she skidded and used her tail to throw one of the hybrids into a tree, grinning wickedly at the satisfying crunch. She saw Stiles slashing at creatures before Derek ripped and tore limbs. He was shutting down the healing process and letting Derek make the killing blows. Milan snarled a yes and started clawing, Erica appearing behind her to tear and rip and slash. The Bast connected with the wolf girl and she shifted into her hybrid state, a brief flash of good igniting in one of her eyes while the other flashed luminous mint green. Both pack and pride, Erica's eyes flashed back and the toke down beasts again and again. Lydia knew, deep down in her soul where the cat lived and thrived, history had just been made in their exchange.  
  
-  
  
                It was easy in the way that it was hard but you didn't notice until the end. The field was soaked in blood that turned the ground black in the light of the unveiled moon. And yet despite how easy it seemed, it was close to dawn, the light in the distance growing just barely, lightening the sky to a gentle lavender and indigo blend. Most of the big cats were dead, a few drained, and nearly all the smaller ones had died, serving as distractions. The creatures were harder to kill than they had thought, even when their healing was delayed long enough to take them down, to rip their heads off and ensure they were dead they ran and clawed for moments afterwards doing more damage until they dropped for good. The pack had mourned the death of the beautiful animals, and knew that there would quite literally be talk of cat burglary. Stiles had tried to make a joke out of it but it was weak and spoken through panted breaths. Allison served as a good diversion, the creatures could smell her were distracted with the blood lust to focus on their own demise.   
  
-  
  
                Stiles held the last one, a young boy, barely fifteen, who hissed and lashed out, snarling savagely. But behind his eyes there was a human fear, the boy he still was underneath not understanding why these two men who were just more of the monsters that surrounded him, were killing him. Stiles kissed his forehead, able to feel the fearful emotions of the boy buried deep, as his claws held him steady for minutes as he willed himself to do what was needed and with a nod Derek snatched his body the other way. Black tears trickled from dead eyes.   
                The pile of bodies was made and Scott started a fire, the good Boy Scout that he was. Lydia and Erica feeding it with limbs and other body parts. Allison was off to the side of the clearing, picking splinters out of his flesh before it healed. A quite malicious hybrid, an older man with little hair that was white as snow that had reminded Stiles too much of Gerard had stabbed Boyd with the sharpened stick.   
Stiles started committing the biological description of the beasts to memory so he could add it to the Beastiary Derek had. Their pale tough skin with the erratic streaks of fur. The shape and size of the fangs and claws. Their posture and their bloodlust and the best way to kill them, with claws. Boyd had also made the mistake of biting one, and had retched for an hour while fighting. It was a stretch of wilderness Stiles didn't want to ever walk in any time soon. Scott had just gotten the fire to light when the spike of Allison's heart beat had him turning towards her, just in time to see the claws rake across her abdomen and the feral smile of the Hybrid Alpha as Allison fell, her eyes closing and her heart beat slowing dramatically.   
                "Scott no!" Stiles was tackling the beta down and using him as a spring board all at once, pouncing off of him and running straight towards the Alpha. The flash of white should have warned the growing hybrid that he would die. Stiles knew it wouldn't be easy, but it would be done.   
                He felt the hunger, the need for vengeance that ignited a vendetta inside of him unleash the worst parts of the being he was. Erica and Derek were right behind him, Lydia even closer. The Alpha Hybrid phased and charged the Bast. He was huge as a wolf, making Derek look like a pup in comparison. But that's what Stiles needed. He wanted the beast to big big and sizable, and above all, spacious.   
  
-  
                That was the moment Derek knew deep down that Stiles was his mate, the man he loved, even if he wasn't much of a man yet. Derek knew he would be.   
-  
                That was the moment that Ares grinned triumphantly.   
-  
                The moment Bastet grinned wider.   
-  
                The moment when Stiles turned into the unidentifiable white cat the goddess had been and leaped into the open mouth of the Alpha, his slim long white tail disappearing down the hybrids esophagus with the ringing of three silver bells tied to his tail.   
  
-  
  
                Derek fell to his knees and roared, fists pounding into the dirt, muddy bloody stained hands wiping down his face, fingers clawing down making cuts that healed in seconds leaving behind no evidence that they were there except for the blood.  Lydia was on the ground beside him, changed in her grief to the snow leopard, curled up and crying mournful and horrible sounds, tears streaming through her fur. Erica leaned into Derek's back and Boyd held her from behind, brushing his large fingers through her blonde hair.   
                The Alpha Hybrid was roaring his victory, dancing about in his big wolfy form, digging into the dirt like a big savage house dog, tongue hanging out grossly, his hind legs bouncing around. Derek wanted to tear him apart and make him not exist. He wanted to find Stiles in that body and hold him and make him better but the grief... That was too much. For a moment that box hidden deep rattled in him and he thought this was punishment for no longer hating himself. For even entertaining the idea of loving that stupid boy who ran his mouth and challenged him and made him speechless with awe at his speed and power and ferociousness.  
                Punishment for thinking about having his pups and kittens even when it was impossible, of having his house full of family again and noise and laughter and finding Stiles' dad and letting Stiles know that his mom would want them together. Punishment for simply being fucking happy. But he wouldn't let it open because Stiles wouldn't want that. Stiles wouldn't want him to stop living just because he had.   
                Derek stood.   
                Derek roared.   
                Derek spoke.   
                "You.Ate.My.Mate." Derek snarled. "YOU ATE MY STUPID CHILDISH ANNOYING MATE!" He screamed Lydia let out a peeling growl and crouched, tail whipping around. "You took a member of my pack and you caused the destruction that plagues my territory with DEATH AND YOUR GOING TO DIE!" The ground and trees and even the fucking sky shook with Derek's last roar, the word die echoing all the way out to the mountains. In the distance the howling of wolves was heard.   
-  
                King Lycanos smiled approaching behind Bastet who stood with Nyx at her side, the Goddess of the Night having always been closely bonded with the Cat Goddess.   
"It's time I threw my support your way, don't you think." The Wolf God, the first ever Lycan, smiled down at Bastet who flashed a fang filled grin.   
                "I do love any opportunity to rub victory in Ares face." The Goddess purred and a crack formed on the glowing marble table where Ares and Bastet played for a future of war or peace. Ares didn't look so smug anymore.   
  
-  
  
                Derek charged and jumped onto the Alpha Hybrids back, out of his reach and clawed and bit and clawed some more. Lydia and Erica slashed at his underside as the beast thrashed and tried to move but something was lugging him down, slowing him. Boyd was on his head in his Beta form, tearing as his face, blinding him and scaring him over and over each time he healed. Scott was holding Allison, crying into her hair. Her heart had stopped beating.   
The beast howled in pain and the whole pack froze, even Scott. They all heard the sickening crack and lush, wet sounding tear.   
  
-  
  
                He knew this was a very a front to his in we cat, getting eaten by a dog. Of course eaten implied that the stupid beast did it intentionally rather than Stiles leaping into the animals mouth. His whole body was humming with power; it had been since he felt the surge of raw energy that he knew was his Goddess. He just didn't know what it was. But either way, there he was, wiggling his way down the beasts throat trying not to breathe which was easy since there was no air. It made him light headed and he knew any other time these were totally panic attack conditions but something was holding it at bay, he dreaded what would happen when that something let go.   
                And he kind of wanted to punch Derek in the throat for that tear inducing proclamation of love and mate hood/ hurtful insult; this guy? Annoying... Impossible! And then stupid Lydia and her stupid crying so she couldn't read his stupid mind to know he was okay... Unless she couldn't when he was a white fuzz ball of power. That was something to ponder when he wasn't struggling to get into a lower digestive system. He paused. This was his life now? Ugh!    
                When he fell into the belly he knew he had miscalculated along the way down because it wasn't big at all. It was like the size of a shoe box, which was big in comparison to a human stomach but the cat barely fit. He was getting sea sick from all the romping around this bitch was doing too. Like really, you might think you've done something impossible for your dog existence like seen something outside of black and white but can you calm the fuck down? No? Okay.   
                Stiles wanted to take a gasping breath when he changed back but he knew the better of it. There was nothing to inhale and he had been holding his breath for two minutes. The flesh around him tore and bloods spilled in, not that he could see it or smell it, more like he felt it pooling around him all warm and slimy and hngh!   
                The spine was restricting his movements so he pulled a Renesme and broke it, wiggling about, claws cutting through whatever they touched, stopping whatever healing that might have wanted to happen. And then he remembered what else his claws did and felt the skin and bones and organs around him churn and shift and heard the garbled screams and yelling and then he was cramped into the fetal position and with a single wiggle he was falling out of the dead on his feet werewolf hybrid and gasping in air, dying of laughter and asphyxiation all at once. Multi-tasker, this guy was a Multi-tasker.   
                "Y-you're... You're alive?!" Derek's whimper was incredulous.   
                "Dude I'm not just alive, I'm Renesme! I have a werewolf boyfriend with the entire abs in the world, and I’m two different things and I kill people when I come out of them. Stephanie Meyer should have written it this way. And then he looked around at the somber faces and how no one was laughing and how he could hear Scott crying openly over Allison's still body. He saw her spirit looking at him pointedly like she always did when he was being an idiot and right now you could say he was being an idiot; laying upside down, staring at the ghost of the girl his best friend loved and his last human charge the Goddess had willed him to change with his mouth hanging open and his tongue working as he tried to think of a way to fix this. He felt it brush against his leg, a warmth and heard the he for purr and knew it was still the Goddess' will to change her. So he would have to try.   
                Stiles scrambled over to her and after holding up his hands in a non-threatening way as Scott's eyes flashed good, he took the girls’ body into his hands. She was still heavy with blood which was odd, she hasn't bled out. Her heart must have given out with shock. In a way it saved her from bleeding out, if your heart isn't pumping your blood is still, right? But when your heart is still you’re essentially dead. Stiles made a fist and after drawing his hand back, slammed it down over Allison's heart. It have a loud glug sound and then took off, her screams were unbearable. Lydia's nails were there suddenly, nicking Allison in the side and the screaming girl fell to sleep. Stiles began to work. He clawed her sides and back first, then hip to hip, the wounds weeping a line of scarlet before the knitted together. The change of Bast worked from the outside in, and the blood stopped flowing from the gashes in her stomach but they were pumping out thick black discharge.  
                "It's venom, but not just werewolf. It's a good thing I never made her a wolf. She would have rejected the change." Derek said eyes tight with worry.   
                "She'll be okay." Stiles assured him and Scott both.  "But I want to move her. The venom needs to have a way out and it will take some time until it’s all gone. I don't want anything else creeping up in us or anything getting into the wound."  
                "We could take her to my house." Scott offered but Stiles shook his head.   
                "We need to take her to the hospital. Call her father though. Once we are there at least so we have control of the situation. I don't want him thinking we left her a dirty and gross. He will want to kill me as it is, for more than one reason. And Scott's mom can flush the wound and get the venom out of her system."  
                "How?" Scott asked.   
                "You'll see. I invented it when the Alphas attacked and I got bit."  
                "You got bit?!?" Derek gasped.   
                "Not the time, Boyfriend." Stiles grinned and picked up the sleeping, healing girl while Derek blushed, actually blushed. It was too easy.  "Derek, Lydia and Scott come with me. Boyd and Erica watch the fire; I don't want the whole forest burning down."   
  
-  
  
                The coffee cup that read '#1 Mom' that Scott had given her was more than accurate. She was on her way to eat something well deserved and earned and chocolate in the cafeteria to get over losing a patient when she saw that spazz Stiles running along the sidewalk followed by Derek and Scott was carrying Allison who was limp in his arms. A rumble of terror roiled in her stomach and she started running to intercept them before they got her in.   
                "What happened?!" She hissed, wanting to take the girl before realizing she wasn’t as strong as Scott and would drop her after a minute.   
                "I'll explain everything we just need a room... Now." Stiles explained quickly with anxious eyes. Stiles explained... Stiles and not Derek or Scott who were the wolves in the situation and not the weak nineteen year old college boy who helped Scott with homework. She knew by the way Scott avoided her curious look that there had been a lie somewhere told some time. She'd get the truth. Just not now.   
She led them to the elevator and no one gave her flack or asked anything when she shot them down with a look. Stiles thought it was like the mafia and she was like the boss or something. Scott's mom was totally Pacino.   
                The room was large with two beds and Stiles had Scott lay her down on the bed and the turned to Melissa.   
                "Do you have the necklace Scott gave you for Mother's Day last year?" He asked, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.   
                "Yes." She said, pulling up the silver chain that had cost Scott an arm and a leg and showing the small heart shaped vile that hung from it, a deep purple liquid filled it that smelt wonderful to her. Scott had grimaced the first time she asked if he liked the scent. She chalked it up to a werewolf thing.   
                "I'll have him make you another one. But right now I need yours. Please don't ask questions, just give it to me." His voice was cool and authoritative and she listened to it because this obvious wasn't the hair brained boy she thought he was. "Set up an I.V drip please. Water, warm water."  He instructed and she ran off, returning quickly with the bag and setting it up, injecting the girl with the needle before turning to Stiles in question; what next?  
                "Do you have anything that sucks?" He dead panned, Derek made a choking sound, and Stiles sighed. He probably did look like a doctor standing there all bossy with gloves on and pants that barely fit and Boyd's too big for him blue v neck. A rugged manly sexy doctor. He could so see him and Derek role playing that. Derek whimpering with a broken paw and looking all hurt and Stiles kissing him better in a very warm place and Derek punched Stiles in the arm and Stiles jumped. He'd been staring at the wolf with lust clouding his eyes and licking his lips, the room reeked of arousal. He blushed and so did Derek.   
                "I-I need a syringe." He stuttered and Melissa chose to ignore their obvious eye-fucking. She handed the boy the syringe and walked over to the wall, unraveling a tube that she connected with the jar on the wall. It was used for sucking excess blood when they were working on stitching up a patient or removing things from a body.   
                She watched him pierce the cork of the heart shaped vile and draw the purple liquid out into the syringe before pulling the needle out and squiring some of the liquid to get rid of the air and she watched as the Alpha jumped away from the falling droplets. Stiles walked over to the I.V that was dripping and filled the chamber full with the liquid. It mixed with the water that slowly tinted purple like it was food coloring.   
                Stiles moved to the bedside and lifted the hoody Scott had covered Allison's mid-section with and the nurse gasped in horror. The pale flesh of her stomach was slashed in three places and coated everywhere with black discharge the poured slowly from the cuts. The nurse paled dramatically.   
                "Scott get all the napkins from the bathroom and fill that pitcher with warm water then come over here." Scott went and did as told and when he was back Stiles continued. "Melissa give your son the tube and turn the suction on. Scott just hold the tube to me." Stiles said, Scott's hands were shaking and he looked wrecked. "Melissa, flush the wound and clean off her skin as best you can. The venom will irritate her nerves and I don't want her waking up through this."  
                Stiles was right, Melissa thought. The black liquid started pouring from her and he started moving the tube around, sucking it up as she did her best, flushing the wound with water repeatedly and wiping her sides off as best as she could. She got the girl as clean as possible and caught a few stray lines of black that avoided the tube.   
                "Stiles what is this? And what was that in the necklace that you put in the I.V? And how do I know you aren't making me help you kill her. And who ARE you?"  
                "Well Ms. McCall, this is werewolf venom, the purple stuff in your necklace was wolfs bane and nope we are actually speeding up her healing process which is saving her and I am a WereCat who protects humans and a pack of cute dogs and I just changed this girl into one too." He finished bluntly and she was more than sorry she asked but... She looked at Scott but spoke to Stiles.   
                "Why did I have a necklace filled with wolfs bane?" She asked sharply, scowling.   
                "Same reason the hospital, your house and your car and the beneath of the soles of your shoes is lined with mountain ash that had the packs hair burned into it. Repels werewolves and keeps you safe." Stiles smiled sweetly and genuinely at the nurse and Melissa had to focus hard on the light to keep from crying.   
                The black liquid stopped coming after half an hour and Stiles sniffed; she was clean. All he could smell was Allison and the wolfs bane that would be out of her system in a day or two but wouldn't affect her. Very little affected Bast besides catnip which sadly had the same affect it had on cats.    
Allison woke up around the same time Chris Argent walked into the room. Basil didn't hesitate to make Stiles look like a douche and raked his claws across the hunters face in a swift wheel of his arm. Chris fell to the floor and clocked out, the changing process beginning at the same. Basil smiled at the sight on the hunter on his ass and let Stiles deal with the aftermath.   
                "Stiles. What the hell?!" Scott screamed an oh so macho scream and Allison gaped at him openly. Melissa looked shocked and Derek was studying the pattern on the drapes. Stiles got the impression that he had done something Derek had longed to do.   
                "I had to change him too. She said so." He examined simply.   
                "Too?!" Allison screamed and everyone with heightened sensed flinched at the sound, even her. The change was working quickly, he noted.   
                "Don't tell me you haven't felt in sync with Lydia and me. That you haven't felt the draw to us. The Goddess chose you and will make herself known to you once your cat is born which it will be at the end of the change."  
                "My cat?"  
                "Your inner cat. Your feline alter ego that will mesh with you. Like wolves sense each other and have an inner wolf, like a second spirit. So do us. In a pride we have a mental connection as well, though. Our cats will meet mentally and bond; that is how we stay so close, as well as the kitten cuddles. Like a pack does. It's much the same. Lydia has Milan, I have Basil. You will make your cat to distinguish it from you; otherwise you and it will be lost from each other. Naming the cat is an act of claiming it. If you don't claim it, it's not yours and you become feral and dangerous and I will put you down." He was kind when he said it but she knew he meant it.   
                "What kind of cat?" She asked and Stiles shrugged.   
                "It is born from you and the change. It takes your primal side, the instinct and the skill and drive, core traits and mixes them with the change and that determines what kind of cat you have."  
                "Why does Lydia have a snow leopard?"  
                "Because I'm rare and sleek and a graceful killer as well as dangerous and elusive but proud. And I'm petite so I couldn't be anything hulking like a lioness or something. You'll probably be one too. Or something like it." Lydia said, smirking at her best friend. Allison managed a smile.   
                "You'll be beautiful." Scott said, speaking up for the recliner beside the bed. None of them had had any sleep besides Allison and Stiles didn't imagine it was restful. But for the first time he wasn't feeling on alert since the Alpha. The Alpha was dead and he could breathe. He felt normal for the first time since Jackson read his diary to the whole pack. He felt whole.   
Stiles walked over to Derek who looked out the window at the rising son and wrapped his arms around the wolf, kissing the nape of his neck. He refused to studded and stumble into it. He would glide in proudly and just let it be there and Derek could take him. Derek placed his warm hands on Stiles' and sighed, leaning his weight against the cat who grinned.   
                "I chose to live." Derek whispered, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. A man of many words he was. But Stiles got it. He wasn't even being closed off. He just knew what to say to let Stiles know almost everything just the short hand version.   
                "I love you too." Stiles grinned at the way Derek's heart have a good strong kick and how the wolf grinned and laughed. He wanted his wolf to laugh like that and grin like that and be happy.  
                "And I'm not annoying." Stiles but the wolfs ear and Derek whimpered and the cat filed that away for later use. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEED. BACK. Because of the level of Sterek at the end which I love and the abruptness and I want to know your feels.


	5. Sexy Times And Curly Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex... Pron... Sexy Pron... With Kink. My god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Am...

Out of the boy,  
                Rose a beast.   
                On one mans’ flesh would he feast.  
                Out of the boy,      
                rose a power,  
                a deadly  
                vicious  
                blooming flower.   
                Out of the boy  
                rose his will  
                to love and fight  
                to mercifully kill.   
  
                "If you were a werewolf you'd be such a stereotype; the way you eat." Derek grinned and stole another one of Stiles cheesy curly fries. The younger male had at least six in his face at the moment, chewing them all with gusto. As first dates went, Derek was happy. They were at Arby's of all places because Derek had a sinful lust for Jamocha shakes and Stiles exploited this to her fries.   
The Bast swallowed them down and gave Derek a reproachful look. "How long did it take you to guzzle down my shake and yours?" He teased and Derek punched him in the arm.   
                "If you suck a straw like that..." Stiles muttered and smirked shoving more fries in his face, smiling to himself.   
                "I’d show you how good I sucked if you asked." Derek pointed out suddenly and Stiles jumped out of his skin, coughing up fries.   
                Twenty minutes later he was against the stall wall, watching Derek slide down to his knees as he lifted up Stiles' shirt and mouthed at the trail of hair below his belly button, his tongue and spit matting the hair down and making his skin shine; Stiles' mouth hung open lustfully and his tongue moved unconsciously.  
                Derek pulled the zipper down with his teeth and growled, eyes glowing red as he stared up at the nineteen year old that smelled of curly fries, want, and musk mixed with old spice body wash and sweat, but clean healthy sweat that was mixed with a potent scent that was all Stiles. He nuzzled into the patch of hair above Stiles' fast growing cock and Stiles felt the faint scratch of the Alpha's scruff that made Stiles twitch. Derek's tongue was closing the inch left away from the head of his dick when he let out a yelp. Not because he was hurt but because dammit he didn't want it like this no matter how much he wanted it.   
                "Stiles what-?" Derek began.   
                "Just not here. I want it. You. Bad. Fucking all of it. But. You deserve better than on your knees in the bathroom of a fast food place and I'm not quiet and I love Arby's so I don't want banned. Let’s go home. Please. I want your smell and mine and the familiar feeling of my sheets. Not the overwhelming amount of pine-sol they use and the germ infested floor and my ass against a cold wall, so up boy." He finished with a grin but Derek ignored that last part. He was staring fixedly at the still hard dick in front of him kind of longingly because it really just made him want to suck it more when the idiot was being stupidly sweet. He pecked the head knowing it would drive him insane. Stiles twitched and jerked at the werewolf got off his knees and planted a huge wet kiss on the cats’ cheek.   
                "Stupid cute." Derek grinned. It was his favorite thing to call Stiles since Stiles resorted to talking to Derek like he was a puppy when Derek did something unknowingly and unintentionally cute. Just because he was the little spoon didn't mean you had to act like a stereotype. Yes Derek liked that Stiles didn't make him be the Alpha all the time and that he didn't make him be the strong macho one. Maybe when they had been further into their relationship he would give up on his masculinity complex that the pack brought out of him, especially Scott after the little spoon fiasco; he was still sending Allison thankful smiles. He gritted his teeth about it every time Stiles pulled him into cuddles while they were on the couch.   
                Stiles drove to fast out of town, tapping the steering wheel with exciting fervor. Derek couldn't help but smile at the younger mans excitement. Stiles had never done much... Of anything, he had admitted that much in the hospital as the pack slept around them. He had had one date that ended when the guy crammed his tongue down the cats’ throat and Stiles had barely been able to keep from cutting that same tongue out with his claws. So Derek was his first and the wolf in him growled in pleasure at the knowledge that he would be getting unmarked territory to claim. His thoughts were just getting interesting as the thought of marking came to mind when he was slammed into the passenger door.   
                The jeep was up on two large wheels for at least four seconds when Stiles took the corner up the road to the hale house going forty miles a fucking hour. He gripped the dash and glared at the WereCat who was white knuckling the wheel, gnawing his lower lip. He must have accident my nicked himself with the sharper than usual human canines because there was a trail of blood from a healed wound. When the car stopped Derek leaned over, nonplused and licked from Stiles chin, up, growling at the strong flavor. It made the hairs on his body stand up as static traveled over him. Stiles was electric.   
                "Let’s go, Boyfriend." Derek smiled a smile that was so filled with sexual desire that Stiles had to think about dead kittens which was really like dead babies so he didn't embarrass himself.   
                The wolf had disappeared out the jeep and vanished but Stiles followed his scent into the cabin and down the hall to his bedroom, sucking in a shocked breath at the sight. Derek had his back to the door, shirt off, his pants sliding down over a mouthwatering sculptured ass that would make narcissus cry. His skin was shaded with hair from his ankles up, thinning around his thighs and growing thinner on that ass. God that ass. Stiles would have to be careful avoiding contact as he undressed. And then, the fact the Derek had been commando on their date but him and he meowed a soft pitiful kitten sound. Derek chuckled and turned slowly like you see those fucking male models do in GQ commercials; all his muscles flexing gracefully with the movement and lifting his head just slightly to look at him through thick black lashes and his green eyes staring into Stiles' brown ones and that fucking sexy mother fucker was blushing.   
                Stiles breath punched out of him and he was moving. He hefted Derek up and slammed him into the wall, hands full of the alphas ass as soon as possible. Derek let out a needy, whimpering sound and Stiles groaned and answered with a seductive, promising purr. He let the wolf go, pinning him up with his body while he went to lift his shirt off but flashing his claws and simply slicing through the fabric with ease. Derek tore what was left of the shirt off and commuted everything to memory because even though he had seen the boy without a shirt it was still a shocking sight. Stiles was lean and tall with wiry muscle and prominent forearms that led to full shoulders and a hard square chest that the idiot boy his under stupid baggy shirts and Derek had never been more happy Lydia had bought him new clothes. The old shits were getting clawed or donated the next day.   
                Derek gripped Stiles' jaw and dived into his mouth, lips crushing the others and dominating his tongue, stiles fought back just had hard and when the two moist muscles met for the first time they both gasped. Stiles ground his hips up into Derek's and his breathing hitched.   
"Clothes. Too many clothes." Derek muttered, licking up and down the smooth milky white neck. Stiles' hands lost control and they just fumbled while he moaned loudly at the sensation and Derek was between a wall and a her place because that fucking sound was so delicious he wanted to hear it more but he wanted to feel the boys flesh on his, grinding and slamming and over powering him, letting him fall apart and trust that his mate would hold him together. He resolved in letting his claws out, slicing down through the leather of his belt and the Denim which was effective, the jeans fell to the ground effortlessly. This left Stiles blushing, wearing his Marvels the Avengers boxer briefs with Hulks hand over the crotch. And that was it.   
                  
                The alpha lost his patience. He shoved Stiles down onto the wooden floor on his back and crawled over him, fangs coming out, filling his mouth slightly. He made the first of many bites just above the knee on the inside, grazing the flesh with his teeth and scenting his mate, breathing in sharply and blowing out heavy through his mouth. It was slow going and he worked on each thigh, biting and scenting. Licking at the hair until it was damp and curling together and smelled only like him. He but the skin below his naval and watched with lust filled eyes as the boy arched, growling, his long cat claws digging into the floor repeatedly. He claimed the right nipple first, biting around it, blood welling around his teeth and his tongue flicked and massaged the hard piece if flesh.   
                "Derek, fuck!" One clawed hand left the floor and gripped the alpha at the male of his neck but didn't stop him. Derek only laughed softly around the bite, deep and husky. He didn't even think about whether the cat might have thought it was wired before his tongue was trailing up into the younger male’s armpit, forcing the hair to lay down with spit there as he masked that spot with his own scent.   
The wolf nibbled across the collar bones, licking up the front of his mates neck to the quivering Adam's apple and back down, across the other collar bone to the left nipple, repeating his same routine, this time biting the little nub there playfully, letting out a teasing growl and Stiles mewed again, soft and hungry for more. He lifts his own arm to give Derek access because Stiles may not have been expecting it but it was fucking hot. He could barely smell any of _himself_ on him, only Derek. But this was torture, enjoyable kinky torture. And it gave him time to think of what he would do to the werewolf. Which; now was about the time to start.   
                Derek gave a startled yelp that had Stiles chuckling like a villain. He held himself over his wolf and grinned a slow grin, revealing the almost vampire like teeth, only his two front teeth not fangs. Derek bared his throat and dragged a hand of claws down the cat, always trying to mark him. Stiles shook his head and pinned the wolfs arms, his eyes changing to slits with moonstone irises that had flecks of red in them. Derek's wolf growled in recognition. Eyes of the Alphas mate.   
Stiles dug his claws into the wolfs wrist, shutting his healing down as he savagely bit into the wolfs chest, dragging the bite down and holding back the smirk as the wolf yelped and panted harshly. Derek's moan was a vulnerable sound, at the night of his human vocal range, sweet and wanting. Stiles dug his claws deeper into the wolf and growled possessively.   
                "No noise." He hissed and Derek's eyes were wide open with shock, filled with lust and he nodded.   
                Stiles grinned. "Good boy."    
  
                He made his way down, making large dragging bites and trailing his tongue over the dripping bites, letting his spit pool in them, literally making himself a part of Derek. He was flowing in the wolfs veins, working through all of him. His inner cat hissed with profound yes.   
                He kicked over the wolfs naval, making a ring with his tongue twice before dipping into it, feeling the wolf squirm beneath him. He wanted to make him do that more; Stiles wanted his writhing and moaning, whimpering just to be filled. He freed Derek's wrist and smirked as the wolf whimpered in distaste. With commanding hands Stiles forced the muscled thighs open and dove in, lapping greedily, nipping at the soft skin of Derek's scrotum before trailing up, peeling back the foreskin slowly to taste the head and then releasing it to nibble to tip of skin that covered it once more.   
                He bit more on the inside of Derek’s thighs but mostly left deep bruises that would heal slowly, as if he were human. Derek hadn't been expecting Stiles to force his ass up, bending the man until his knees touched his forearms, Stiles still forcing his thighs apart so she could watch the reaction play across Derek's face. He didn't have experience but porn was a great teacher and he spread his mate open and brushed his tongue over the bright pink opening, eyes always on Derek's who was forcing his eyes to stay open even as he whimpered, the heavy blush covering his cheeks. Stiles was evil, he flattened his tongue against the sensitive pucker and purred long and rough, the constant vibrations sending the wolf closer of the edge. He pulled back and bit possessively, blood pearling around his teeth as they sunk into the soft smooth ass cheek.  
                 He held the wolf up with one hand and let the other reap havoc across his mates back, scarring him with his claws over and over. His hand was bloody when he pulled it back around and he lifted his face from Derek’s ass, propping against his chest and booking the right leg over his thigh. His eyes burned white as he extended one claw and slowly, just enough to scar, cut his name into his mate, a thrumming purr rolling out of him as he permanently branded the wolf his. His hand made the mistake of brushing too close to the wet wolfs dick, his hand brushing just inside the man’s hip nine. Derek gasped, arched and cried out his mates’ name, whimpering pants as round after round of hot thick cum expelled from him. Stiles stroked the print of his finger against Derek's hole the whole time, making him all the more sensitive to his orgasm. So he might have googled a few tips too.   
                When he lowered the wolf down he looked like he had gotten been attacked by a cougar, which he had. Looking down at his own body he looked like a pack of wolves had tried tearing him to shreds. Both of them were bloody and scarred and bruised, Derek looked wrecked but the blissed look on his face didn't change. He was thinking maybe the alpha was worn out, but when he pulled back and Derek growled he knew otherwise.   
                "In." Derek breathed. Then stronger. "I want it inside, Stiles. I need it. P-please."   
                The younger man was on the edge, fingers grasping Derek's muscled hips. He didn't think he could look at anything besides Derek's eyes without coming. But with the soft way his mate spoke it just made him hungry to feel how hot and moist the alpha was, it made him want to thrust and ram and he jerked and breathed deep, controlling himself for the second time.   
                "I won't last long." He whispered, pulling Derek up onto his lap, hefting him up and pinning their blood drilling bodies together. Derek's forehead lapsed against his mates and let his eyes drift closed for a moment, stroking Stiles' cheek softly, breathing in the scent of come and blood and spit and happiness. They would have an odd sex life, he was sure.   
                "Is it true?" He asked and Stiles quirked an eyebrow, curious and nudged Derek up to see in his eyes. He was blushing.   
                "Is what true?"  
                "Werewolves... Knot. It's a canine thing and Lydia was talking to me... About your dreams in the cafeteria. Your dreams about me. She mentioned that 'it' was barbed... At least in the dream. C-can you do that? To me?" There was fire welling up in the pit of Stiles stomach when Derek finished, the feeling he got right before an orgasm but something in him willed it back. The desire to be locked inside of Derek, for him to have no escape while he pumped and filled him was... Overwhelming.   
                "Yes it's true." He sounded like he was being strangled.   
                "Will you?" Derek whimpered, sweating suddenly, skin flushed. "I... Want it. Bad." He tried to sound like he wasn't begging but that's all Stiles heard. Begging.   
Derek was already hot and moist and open from his tongue so he lifted the alpha, adjusting his body so they both were at the right angle; Derek leaning back on his hands, staring up at Stiles who sat on his knees, holding Derek's hips and thrusting in slowly. It wasn't just deciding to barb, it didn't work like that. It was instinct, the will to... Make family. It brought out the beast in Stiles; it forced him faster and deeper, pushing him into the soft hot tightness inside Derek. His mouth was open, swollen lips a gap and his tongue working again as he plowed into the werewolf. Derek would have bruises from how tight Stiles was holding him, fingers digging into the muscle painfully, yet it wasn't enough. He wanted tighter and harder and faster and deeper and he told his mate so though whimpers and pants and cries. Stiles felt every bare inch of the inside of Derek. It sent chills through him, his muscles flexing repeatedly to get the right movement. He fucked from his hips and torso, pushing up to hit the slot that made Derek scream and roar.   
  
                There were a new set of claw marks on the floor that went with his perfectly. Stiles watched Derek writhe beneath him all muscle and pure sex. He threw his head back and arched as he grew closer again, pushing against his mates thrusts, moving his hips in circles until Stiles forced him still with the digging of claws into his hips and a growl to which Derek would submit to and whimper. That sound. That keening pitiful sound did it for Stiles. When Derek arched. Against Stiles felt himself barb for the first time as he came. Derek cried out from the pain but he looked too happy for Stiles to question that it wasn't what he wanted but he still soothed the wolf, pulling him up into his arms and kissing him deep and wet and sloppy but gentle. He wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and ride out the orgasm, not moving as his mate groaned or moaned or growled. Not when his eyes flashed a dark, lusty alpha red.   
Derek held into Stiles, his strong arms around the cat’s neck feeling more whole and safe than he had since he lost everything. He felt the power in his mate and wrapped himself in it and just clutched it. It was a vast and deep as the ocean itself and it was all Stiles all the time everywhere. He felt the hot come inside of him and never wanted to let it go because he wanted to carry Stiles in him in so many different ways.   
                After an hour the barbs released Derek who gave a sigh, not relieved, not sad, just a content sound of completeness. Stiles picked him up, and even though Derek knew Stiles was stronger than him it still shocked him a bit but he was still too far gone in post orgasm bliss to care.   
They curled up in bed and slept.   
  
-  
  
                Stiles woke up on a cloud, the heat rolling off Derek making him purr. He was half on top of his mate, his chest was against the dip of Derek's back, his head resting between the dip of Derek's shoulder blades, one hand in Derek's hair, the other holding his mates hand and Derek's firm bubble butt was nuzzling the top of Stiles’ morning wood. He snuggled closer and hugged the man with his body, mouthing a gentle kiss against his shoulder. He felt Derek's emotions shift out of contented sleep and into pure happiness and amusement.   
                "It feels like you're ready to go again but thanks to your handy dandy claws I will be in a wheel chair for a while. I know why you eat so much and don't gain much of anything." He teased fondly and Stiles snickered. He had it good in the manhood department.   
                "You weren't complaining about my handy dandy claws last night." He leered at Derek when the man looked over his shoulder.   
                  
                “I was under the influence.” Derek yawned, and over his shoulder pecked a kiss on his boyfriend’s soft lips. “I’m always under your influence… I always have been.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Not Sorry


End file.
